


Barcelona

by Bingalala



Series: Where Did You Come From, Where Have You Been? [1]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: ChanBaek - Freeform, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bingalala/pseuds/Bingalala
Summary: Who do you meet when you travel to find yourself? Ask Baekhyun. He thought he had it all figured out until Chanyeol barreled in.





	1. Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly, I neither own Exo or the song by Ed Sheeran. Don't sue me. I'm poor. 
> 
> This is for my friend, who likes to call herself Bolt.

Part I: Barcelona

 

 _Well get up, up on the dance floor tonight_  
_I've got two left feet and a bottle of red wine_ _  
_ Making me feel like the beat and the bassline

 

He would almost have walked by, past the weaving revelers. Past the drunk, sunburned tourists relieving their youths or kissing them goodbye. Past the people of the night cruising, peddling their ware. Chanyeol had been in Barcelona long enough to notice the pattern. It was the carnival; the last chance to go wild before Lent. The tourists lived for these stuff. If they were well informed ones, they would have grabbed the train to Sitges where the real carnival happened but who was Chanyeol to tell them what to do? He had been distractedly looking at the tangle of blonde, brown, red and black hairs, smiling. Hadn’t he been among them too, once? He did have the good sense to go to Sitges first though. So that was that. He had moved here from Seoul as an impressionable twenty two years old - fresh out of conscription, with a dream. Fearless. Chanyeol was going to change the world with his book of pictures. Ten years later, he hadn't changed the world but his photojournalistic book on civil war migrations, on ritualistic faith healers, on ethnic cleansing and most recently, the politics of money had certainly held up a few mirrors. Chanyeol hadn't seen it all but he had seen enough that at 29, even his awards weighed him down, making his bones and his soul ache. He had been back to Seoul a few times since. How do you define feeling like an alien? It was as if the whole world had moved on and he remained in this same place, at the same point. Nothing he knew before was the same anymore. In a world of shiny, happy people, Chanyeol had felt very much like an outsider. So he had gone back to Spain. He kept on coming back to Barcelona where things changed like the sands of time everyday. Except for a few rooted locals, everyone came and went. The transient nature of the place calmed him, perversely. It's where he went to recuperate in between books. As he had now.  He had been walking, taking photos here and there, almost idly, thinking about using them in some book - maybe ones about modern cults or something, when, among the nest of red, blue black, ginger, brown, grey and blonde hairs, he saw a flash of cotton candy. He walked back to make sense of what he had seen - yes, it was a wispy pink you associated with dreams and heartbreaks, first kiss and teenage dreams. He had smiled, trying to get a look at that face. The delicate features came into his sight, even as the piquant nose crinkled at distaste, the honey colored eyes staring at something that annoyed them quite terribly. The pale cheeks awash with a hectic red that had nothing to do with joy or pleasure. Chanyeol arched down from his considerable height of six feet something to stare as a busy pair of hands kept groping the elven featured man with the cotton candy hair. Of course it was attached to the red, grey haired, blue eyed man. If it had been a woman, Chanyeol would have gone and broken his jaws gladly. But the pink haired, east or central Asian man would not appreciate the attention it would bring him. He could have said something any number of times but he hadn’t. He shook his head and sighed. Chanyeol too had grown up in a similar culture. He didn't want to humiliate the boy. So he had to do something else. Chanyeol had been begging for a distraction, while he toyed with the concept of his next photojournal. Seems like he just walked into one.

 

 _Get on up, baby, dance to the rhythm of the music_  
_Don't care what the DJ chooses_  
_Get lost in the rhythm of me_  
Place don't close until we wanna leave it  


Byun Baekhyun was feeling a little frustrated. He had just finished his conscription sometime ago, had finished his college before that and this was probably his last chance to be free of those petty responsibilities that came with life and here he was, at a carnival that was significantly oversold to him, while his butt was being groped by a member of his tour group. Baekhyun was considering the merit of punching the man in the face but they were in a tight spot, and he could just as easily hurt someone else. Someone hurting an innocent third party stuck in his craw and made him bear it for a few seconds longer although, his altruistic side was quickly coming to the conclusion that he would never make a good martyr. He had just looked up to hurt the stupid man when a large, long fingered hand grabbed the offending hand on his derriere with a squeeze. It made the man attached to his roll back his eyes in pain and drop to his knees and Baekhyun just arched his brows. A giant in a black sweatshirt and narrow jeans covering his long legs smiled at him sunnily, and somehow managed to herd him over to an empty corner, chattering all the while - Baekhyun blamed the shocked compliance on hearing Hangul being spoken in Barcelona, of all places. By an unnaturally handsome giant with dark eyes rimmed with shadows from countless sleepless nights, inky black hair that was a tad overgrown, a pair of black framed glasses and t-shirt proclaiming “may the bridges I burn light the way”.

 

“There are better places to go to, instead of the carnival here in Barcelona you know,” he repeated again, this time in Japanese.

 

Baekhyun suppressed the need to roll his eyes, falling back instead in bounds of the strict cultural roles they had no doubt both been raised in, before the giant exhausted all the central asian languages he had known, on him. He had since moved into Mandarin, and Filipino since Baekhyun hadn’t responded yet. Bowing, he thanked him in Hangul, watching the giant’s teeth flash again. No doubt a well meaning lecture would be next. What was a good boy doing in Barcelona, at the carnival? Well, what do you think, ahjussi? He thought nastily. I came to sow my wild oats, damn the torpedos. The giant was smiling at him, almost as if he could read his thoughts, causing Baekhyun to take a step back hastily.

  
A large hand cradled his before he could think to say anything to take a quick leave, “Park Chanyeol, nice to meet you. I only asked since the carnival at Barcelona has to be the single most boring one all around. It is early enough to catch that train to Sitges. If you want a carnival, that’s where you should be at,” and without waiting for an answer, he started walking away from the hustle of the central, leaving Baekhyun to decide whether he wanted to boring or something more. Surprisingly it wasn’t as difficult as he had thought it would be. Chanyeol hadn’t asked for his name. Wasn’t that enough? He had run towards the long legged male.

 

“where is the station?”

 

Chanyeol had looked at him, smiling again, before slinging a companionable arm around his shoulder, still leaving enough space between them so if Baekhyun had wanted to wiggle out, he would have been able to. Baekhyun hadn’t. He could feel the warmth seeping into his back, warming bones that had been frozen for years. He had wanted to move closer to the source of his warmth, but hadn’t had the courage to, so they walked, with an awkward gap in the middle, bridged by Chanyeol’s large wingspan. Chanyeol had left him standing on the platform for some time, giving the younger man enough time to google “Sitges and Carnival” - he wasn’t a fool, even if people thought he was, him with his cotton candy hair. The man hadn’t lied, he thought, sighing in relief. When Chanyeol came back walking, moments later, clutching two tickets, Baekhyun was distressed. He hadn’t wanted the older man to pay for his ticket either. That’s where expectations came from, he thought bitterly. When he offered to pay the older man, it was waved off airily. Like it was something Chanyeol would do for anyone. Maybe he would have, Baekhyun though, as he noticed him helping an old woman off the platform into the train, and then, a woman with a child in a stroller. There were parts of the forty five minutes journey, that Baekhyun could believe that Chanyeol had almost forgotten that he was even there. The man had picked up the battered camera he had slung around his neck and kept taking pictures in a way that made Baekhyun think, he was maybe a photographer, more than just a tourist, anyway. Maybe a struggling photographer. Definitely a struggling photographer, Baekhyun sighed, as Chanyeol distractedly took out a silver paper clip to pin his inky bangs away from his face. He’d have to remember to give the poor guy some money.  
  
  
_You and I we're flying on an aeroplane tonight_  
_We're going, somewhere where the sun is shining bright_  
_Just close your eyes, and let's pretend we're dancing in the street_ _  
_ In Barcelona

 

For Baekhyun, who hadn’t really seen much of the world before Spain, the carnival was an epiphany. It was excess, and wild, a great and terrifying beauty. What Chanyeol had failed to mention was that the carnival focused on homosexuality. Gay boys. Boys in drag. Girls with girls. Boys with boys. Beautiful people, all around, terrifying Baekhyun who himself was still coming to terms with his own sexuality, warring with his conditioning. There were plenty of straight people, he realized, as his wide eyes took everything in. Chanyeol didn’t look all that impressed. Those cool, jaded eyes focused, he just kept snapping away at pictures, while he walked behind the delicate younger man. Baekhyun had wanted to see what those pictures were like, but since the man hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, it seemed like he was hoping too much. Whatever Chanyeol’s reason was behind bringing him here, it was beyond Baekhyun’s understanding. He hadn’t hit on Baekhyun. In fact, Baekhyun wasn’t even sure that the man liked men like that. He had looked at both men, and women, but mostly through his viewfinder. He had bought them both Catalan butifarra, a local sausage, and the spanish tortilla. Bought them both drinks. Gave him the history behind some of the floats, and physically lifted him out of the way, as drunken revelers came barrelling towards him. If Baekhyun was the only one of them left weak kneed, with the heat seeping in under his thin white sweatshirt, the onus was just on him. Surely Chanyeol felt nothing. Baekhyun looked at the older man warily. He wouldn’t, as well.

 

 _Well get up up on the dancefloor, move, it's a Saturday night_  
_I fell in love with the sparkle in the moonlight_  
_Reflected in your beautiful eyes, I guess that is destiny doing it right_  
_And dance like they do in the Mediterranean_  
_Spin you around me again and again and_  
_You're like something that God has sent me_ _  
_ I want you baby, solamente

 

When the dancers from one of the local schools came in, the girls, charmed by Baekhyun’s delicate beauty, danced with him, with the music playing in the background. The moonlight acting as a halo, frosting his skin, marbling his hair. They all took turn to be spun around by the beautiful pink haired man in front of them, who gallantly spun them, and bowed after each turn. Chanyeol however quietly melted in the background, taking pictures he knew would cost him, in a way he hadn’t known before. Eyes sparkling, in the middle of the crush, Baekhyun stood, so ethereal that he had found himself snatching him away before he was jostled by the moving bodies following the floats and the dancers forward.

 

One moment he was alive, dancing under the moonlight, and the next, he was held against a beating heart while a sultry samba wailed in the background. Baekhyun peered through his sweaty bangs, disoriented. Unsure. Sweat was dropping into his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly against the sting. He hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t Chanyeol pinning the swathe of pink fringes to his widow’s peak, with another paperclip that he had in his pocket. If Baekhyun felt wonderfully vulnerable, he didn’t know. He had never felt like this before. When the blood rushed to follow the path Chanyeol’s fingers took, to stroke his alabaster skin. When they swayed to the whispers of the music in the background. When his fingers sunk into Baekhyun’s waist, pulling him closer. When their breaths mingled in the chilly february evening. When his plush lips fitted over Baekhyun’s thin, quivering ones.  None of this was a part of the plan. None of this was what he had anything to do with the responsibilities that weighed him down, but at that moment, he didn't’ care.

 

A rough thumb rubbed his bottom lip with infinite tenderness.

 

“Suppose you tell me your name now?”

 

He could hear the laughter in the bass of that voice, reverberating in his veins.

  
“Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun”.

 

 _Feel that summer breeze in Barcelona_  
_Los otros, viva la vida_ _  
_ Siempre vida, Barcelona

 

NB: Barcelona by Ed Sheeran


	2. Trouble I'm in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own Exo or the Twinbed song.

Part 2: Trouble I'm In

 

 _I wanna feel your touch_  
_It's burning me like an ember_  
_Pretending is not enough_  
_I wanna feel us together_  
_So I'm giving in_ _  
_ To the trouble I'm in

 

From their very first moments, Baekhyun had known that Chanyeol had a special kind of irreverence. Did he care? Where were they? What were they? You wouldn't be able to ask him any of it. Some of it was because Baekhyun himself was too scared to ask. Here he was, in the Catalans, having a spring fling. A lovely, passionate affair with a man he couldn’t figure out, even if he had tried. Baekhyun hadn’t, fearing that it would lead to a heartbreak he wouldn’t be able to afford at this point of time. How was he to ask anyone what it it all meant, when he couldn’t or, rather, wouldn’t figure it all out himself?

 

Then there was Chanyeol. Ever since the day of the carnival when he had pinned Baekhyun’s bangs back and brought him home to his airy apartment at La Rambla, they haven't talked about eventualities. Him, with his dark eyes, with a face that was just angles. With the widest smile, and a curiosity one associated with particularly active children and household pets. Shadowed eyes that looked like they had seen too much, and then this smile that made a liar out of them. Chanyeol who sang when he cooked, scribbled when made grocery lists and dabbed, while dancing. Baekhyun was sure that he was literally only one alive, who still did that. Chanyeol with phone filled with hip hop ranging from the late 80s, all the way to now and then, there were these surprisingly sensitive love ballads, at odds with the rest of them. Baekhyun thought of them as the hidden pockets of Chanyeol, bursting out at the oddest times. There was the Chanyeol who rolled around on La Rambla with puppies, the one that played piano at dive bars, serenading old ladies, and even Baekhyun. The one who put his hair up with paper clips. Never had Baekhyun seen him without one of his trusty paper clips pinning his coal black bangs. Baekhyun didn’t know what went on in his mind. Not when he had explored Baekhyun’s mouth like he was trying to absorb a flavor that he had never come across before. Not when their breaths mingled on cold Catalans nights when they explored each other. Not when Chanyeol made love to him, like he was the only person in his world that he saw. Baekhyun had trembled even as he greedily took it all. He knew how quickly a person could become a habit. Yet, wasn't this his reward to himself? His Catalan summer, as far away from Seoul as possible.

 

They walked hand in hand in the gardens of Park Güell and or rode bicycles around the city. Chanyeol liked art. Baekhyun quickly discovered, he liked Chanyeol. So they went. Down Reina Cristina and Mercé. To Museu Picasso and Els 4 Gats, famously haunted by Picasso and Dali in their hey days. They had walked the city, on foot, trying out the tapas, pintxos and the vermouth. They had climbed to the top of Montjüic mountain. Baekhyun had cried the whole way until he had seen the view from the top overlooking the city. They had looked in on the old olympic stadiums, and he had been made love to, thoroughly, gently like something had changed in that moment. Food was a pilgrimage too. Chanyeol had taken him to restaurants and classic Bodegas. To street vendors and shady little bars that probably never heard of tax inspectors. To avant garde eateries and artsy little cafes. They explored the city with the love of a new explorer, thanks to Baekhyun with the dexterity of an old resident who knew it all, because of Chanyeol and yet, neither seem to tire of the city that wasn’t strictly even their own.

 

The only times they butted heads was when the issue of paying came up. Every time the younger man tried to pay, Chanyeol waved him off. Baekhyun is unsure of what his lover did for a living exactly. Their lifestyle this month wasn’t exactly for people on limited budgets or even ones without a career. For people who were in each other's personal spaces more often than not, they hadn't really spoken of the what's, who and whys. He had for a nanosecond wondered if Chanyeol was in the drug trade. Then common sense kicked in. The man was too obsessed with his camera and he never really spoke to anyone other than some person who periodically called to yell at him in English. That took drug dealer off his list of Chanyeol’s potential careers but it still left everything else wide open. A secret agent. A murderer on the run. A tax evading citizen. A bank robber. He could just as easily be a rich kid, running away from the past. A lesser Samsung kid, maybe, Baekhyun had thought, amused. They were the same except Baekhyun wasn't rich. But he was running to escape it all too.  Maybe that made them kindred spirits in some ways.  

 

One of Baekhyun’s favorite things about his lover was his refusal to label anything. Ask him about his sexuality, he would shrug and say, he didn't play the boy-girl game. He just liked who he liked. Ask him about his view on religion, on gender roles, the answer would probably be the same. The only thing Chanyeol had strong opinions about were wars and poverty. On education or lack thereof. There were times Baekhyun could almost imagine that he had seen some of the things he spoke of but where would a Korean boy see war? The most they did at camps were drills during their conscription. Chanyeol spoke of things he never thought about. Things that sometimes made his own troubles seem small, petty even. Their times with each other, even as it started to wind down, profoundly changed Baekhyun. Did it do the same for Chanyeol? He didn't know. It wasn't in him to ask and be rejected.  Even as he stood in front of Chanyeol’s mirror, touching up his roots so the pink would be all that you'd see, with the taller helping, carefully touching up each root, he was afraid to ask. The sheer domesticity of the scene playing out mocked him with what could never be.

 

 _You are you are, my favorite medicine_  
_You are you are, you're where the edge began_  
_You are you are, just one last time again_ _  
_ You are you are, you are the trouble I'm in

 

“Where do you go next?” he had asked Baekhyun, while running his fingers through the pink locks. Chanyeol loved his pink hair. It was a revelation for Baekhyun who had found that nobody really liked the quirks that made him who he was. Whether the candy colored hair he enjoyed, or yelling incoherently when he was frustrated or even spontaneously bursting out into songs, and dances when he was happy, no matter where he stood. The first time he had done it, on Reina Cristina, Baekhyun was ready for the sting of rejection, of Chanyeol walking away, pretending not to know him as his last partner had done, many, many times. Baekhyun wouldn’t even hold it against Chanyeol. Yet, he hadn’t. Instead, the older man had burst out laughing and harmonized with him. They had stood on that street, singing an old Big Bang song, while tourists and locals walked by, staring curiously at the two men. Plus, Baekhyun liked skinship. He liked holding hands, hugging, leaning into his partner. His last partner had refused to acknowledge him as more than friends in the seven years they had been together. Any hugging spontaneously meant weeks of censure, of sulks and tantrums. Happiness was something Baekhyun had learned to hold in. Yet here with Chanyeol, it was public. It was as if he too knew that joy was transient, and needed to be embraced. Chanyeol, when he held him, made him feel wanted, and cared about. Chanyeol ran his fingers through Baekhyun’s front locks. Any moment now, a paperclip would come out to pin the bangs to his forehead. Baekhyun still didn't know what it was about that particular act that melted his heart so. Leaning into his touch, he thought about what Chanyeol had asked. The older man never spoke of home, never asked when he would go back home either.  Instead, he asked where he went next, almost as if the concept of a home didn't exist with him.

 

“Seoul. In about a week's time,” he had said, cautiously, straightening Chanyeol’s glasses which were perched crookedly on his nose. The glasses were smudged. Chanyeol often walked around for days wearing smudged spectacles, forgetting that the world wasn’t as tarnished as he saw it to be. Baekhyun plucked it from his nose, using his breath and the hem of his t-shirt to polish it, before putting it back on him, again. Chanyeol hadn't said anything but then Baekhyun hasn't expected him to, either. If Chanyeol had been a little clingier than his usual with Baekhyun, neither of them spoke of it. If there had been more hugs, a little bit more kissing on sidewalks and desperate lovemakings that went into the night, nobody spoke about it, out loud. It was just another goodbye after all. What was it about goodbyes that tore one’s heart up so?

  
_You are you are, you are the trouble I'm in_

 

 

 

NB: Trouble I'm In by Twinbed

 

This is sort of inspired by that Exosexo's video of Chanbaek loving to Trouble I'm In. It's a lovely song and and very apt for this story.

  



	3. Run

Part 3: Run

 

 _Rare is this love, keep it covered_ _  
_ _I need you to run to me, run to me, lover_ _  
_ _Run until you feel your lungs bleeding_   


When it was time to say goodbye, it was just as painful as Baekhyun had thought it would be. It hurt to breath. Baekhyun had cried, but what he hadn’t expected was to see tears in Chanyeol’s eyes. They had exchanged phone numbers but Baekhyun knew nothing would come of it. He had even given Chanyeol his business card that the older man tucked into his worn cloth wallet with faded One Piece characters on them. It had made Baekhyun laugh through, and even Chanyeol grinned through his tears. Some hair had fallen on his face, while Baekhyun was saying his final goodbyes. Chanyeol had reached over, and pinned it back with one of his trusty paper clips. Usually Baekhyun would have laughed. He had sobbed instead, trying to get all the tears out, then and there. Yet, here he was. Crying again. What had he expected, really? Chanyeol’s life was in Barcelona, doing whatever it is that he did. Baekhyun’s was in Korea. Not because it was set in stone, but he didn’t know where else he would go and what else he would do anymore. Chanyeol would forget him in a few days, and then a new tourist would roll in, or a beautiful local. There were a lot of beautiful people - both men, and women in the Catalans. As Chanyeol said, he didn’t play the boy-girl game. Baekhyun dashed away another errant tear that escaped his eyes. It was best if they both stopped where they were. He had twelve odd hours of flight to consider, and come up with the best way to deal with this unexpected heartbreak.

 

When Baekhyun had stepped off that plane at Incheon, he was composed. Nobody looking would know, he had cried like his heart was breaking just half an hour ago. The sunglass could be attested to the headaches he got sometimes. Kyungsoo, his friend, who had come to pick him up saw nothing different. Just a slightly tanned, quieter Baekhyun, but then, when you have flown for a good twelve hours and more, one did get tired. Baekhyun adored Kyungsoo. They had served together - two frail looking boys under the same regiment. That’s all the similarities they shared really. Kyungsoo was as straight, as he wasn’t. Kyungsoo came from a big, bustling family, while he had nobody. He, a child of wealth and privilege, while Byun Baekhyun had very little and nobody to call his own. Yet, with all the opposites, they bonded. When they were released from their conscriptions, it was Kyungsoo who had offered him a job at his family’s gallery as an assistant to the curator. Baekhyun had an eye for avant garde art. His beautiful face, the shocking hair, went very well with the edgy, elegance of the gallery at the heart of Gangnam.

If he had felt unsatisfied, Baekhyun wouldn’t say it - he would rip out his tongue before he said a word. He had nothing - not even a place to go back to, and newly out of a relationship, when Kyungsoo had offered him the job, and opened up his home to him. Even now, when he could afford to live on his own, his friend still forced him to stay. He said it was about companionship, being the youngest in the family where his siblings were almost 10 years older than him. He needed that moral support, Kyungsoo had often joked, to survive being smothered to death. Only Baekhyun knew, it was solely for him.

 

Kyungsoo fed him and often. Surprisingly, the rich kid liked to cook, and there had been many evenings when they had sat together, with something Kyungsoo had cooked, a bottle of soju between them, talking about things that will be, things that had gone by. They both shared a love of music, of arts and ironically, they had both had their heart broken around the same time by people they were in relationship with, secretly. Baekhyun, because homosexuality wasn’t a thing to be announced in South Korea, and his partner had decided that he wanted a marriage and a family to go with his budding career and the first step would be to get rid of the partner he had begun to see as a sign of his own weakness; an albatross around his neck. Kyungsoo’s tale was perhaps just as tragic - a quietly private man, he had a long term relationship since middle school with someone most people had known as a very good friend of his. She was a family friend and there had been a lot of room for their relationship to grow. They had been each other’s first everything. He had expected to marry, once his conscription was over and had taken Baekhyun with him to buy a ring, on one of their rare days off. In his own words, his taste was too old fashioned for his beautiful fiancee to be, and he had needed an outside opinion. Baekhyun had been it. However, towards the end, he had received a tearful visit from his lover, before he could go to her - she had begged him not to tell anyone about their relationship anymore, as she was getting married - to his older brother. The brother who would head the family corporation and would command majority of the Do Family wealth. Kyungsoo hadn’t said anything but the family had gotten a letter stating his release was delayed, and he wouldn’t be able to attend the wedding. Nobody had found a reason to question the change. They were sad, but such was life. Instead, Kyungsoo had gotten drunk, and remained drunk, a rare event for the quiet young man. He had physically hijacked Baekhyun to Geoje, where the friends had spent a week at the seaside resorts, recuperating from their own personal tragedies. Do Kyungsoo was Baekhyun’s best friend in the whole world. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his friend - at the same time, Baekhyun wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened with him yet. Maybe months later, over a few bottles of soju again, he would be ready.

  
“Remember when I was in Barcelona? Funny story…”

 

Baekhyun half sobbed, half laughed, grateful that the pounding of the hot shower drowned out the noise from his flatmate’s ears. He had found the paper clip holding his hair back. Surprisingly it had made it through the long flight to Seoul with him. Baekhyun had carefully kept it, to be put aside in his memory box. Chanyeol maybe gone, but the feelings he had elicited were there to stay, it seemed. He wanted those to be happy memories without the sting of heartbreak. Memories you associated to the sweetness of youth. Hopefully, in a little while, they would be. If it was longer than that, Baekhyun didn’t know what to do then. Surely his life couldn’t be one long infomercial for heartbreaks? No one can be that unlucky.

 

Work got busier as life was won't to. Apart from that one message from Chanyeol that said “miss you” to which he had replied, there hasn't been anything else. After almost four months of non-activity, Baekhyun hadn't been expecting anything either. Chanyeol hadn't called. He had been too scared to take the first step too. Then, they were hosting works by Jung Lee whose photographs are said to capture the diasporic immigrant experience. Baekhyun didn't understand the concept of an immigrant’s experience. Except for Barcelona where he had been always with Chanyeol, he had never lived beyond the shores of South Korea. However, the photographs spoke to him - of loneliness, of isolation and of discovery. There were heartbreaks and rebirths captured in frames. Baekhyun didn't know much but he did love the photographer, whose North American connection would also make him a hit among the social elites. It was turning out to be a profitable show. Since Baekhyun had the carte blanche to curate it, he had felt doubly proud. Both the curator and the members of the Do family who had showed up for the event had praised him effusively. Baekhyun was just vain enough to soak it all up. Kyungsoo had been over the moon enough to hug him, a rarity by itself.

 

“Baekhyun-ah, if this keeps on going like this, I'd never worry about this gallery again,” he had whispered.

Kyungsoo had smiled. It lit up the serious, scholarly face to something out of a fairytale, with the smile making his top heavy lips resemble a heart. Baekhyun always found it amusing how the fear of looking pretty and young kept his friend from smiling too much. He hadn't also known that his friend worried about the gallery.  Kyungsoo was almost all day at corporate office, Baekhyun hadn't realized that he had the time to worry about anything else beside what went on at work but if he could do anything to ease his friend's mind, he would it.

 

“just watch me,” he had winked at his friend, who kept grinning some more. One more thing he had loved about Kyungsoo was his personality. Never had he seen him recoil when Baekhyun flirted with him jokingly and openly.  Kyungsoo knew that he was gay. It was another part of Baekhyun to him. Just his best friend who likes men instead of women and Kyungsoo cared very little beyond the occasional “Don't date him. He's a dick,” warning.

 

“Baekhyun-ah, I have a good news and I was hoping you could handle it,” Kyungsoo had whispered, as they sat on the balcony, sipping on their beer, watching the stars. He had made some doare and the friends were quietly spending the rest of their evening in. Baekhyun always wanted Kyungsoo to date. He never did. There were nights when he wouldn't come home but Baekhyun didn't ask him and he never told. His friend was young and needed to be out in the world, dating beautiful women. Instead here he was, making snacks, serving soju to his gay best friend. Baekhyun shook his head inwardly while he looked at the man, waiting for him to continue.

 

“my brother has this friend who is a famous photojournalist living abroad. Works for Times magazine. Won a lot of awards. The international community loves him. He is currently on an assignment in Egypt now but will be coming back to Seoul after a long time. When I heard, I reached out to him to do an exhibition. He has never had one before. He said yes right away but, I don't want it to be an imposition on my brother's friendship with him. I want it to be an exhibition to display his brilliance as an artist and our’s as a gallery. Will you help me with the curation? I am looking after this personally.”  Kyungsoo is serious by nature but it is not for him to usually oversee anything personally when there is an existing chain of command.  It makes him think that this photographer must be someone very important.

 

Baekhyun had nodded, of course he would. Kyungsoo had smiled before sighing and getting up. “I need to be in Japan tomorrow Baekhyun-ah. I'll go to bed now. Will you be okay cleaning it up?” Baekhyun had laughed and waved the man away, cleaning up. He thought of the photographer whose works they would display. It made him think of another photographer and another time. Baekhyun had never seen his works. For all he knew, Chanyeol could have been a terrible hobby photographer. He smiled, amused, that Chanyeol could be bad at something. How we build up our beloveds on pedestals of marble and gold!

 

Giving the table one final wipe, Baekhyun went into his room. He would have to remember to ask Kyungsoo the photojournalist’s name to get started on the promotional materials. He had so much to do. Baekhyun yawned pulling on a ratty star wars t-shirt. He hadn't known where it had come from until he remembered Chanyeol wearing it. It appeared as if he had inadvertently stolen his old lover's t-shirt. So Baekhyun had done what any sane person would do - make it his pj. Maybe it would net him dreams of the taller man with the Yoda ears, tonight. He missed that smile.

 

_I need you to run to me, run to me, lover_

  
  


Note: I don't know why I brought in Kyungsoo but maybe the iheartradio interview where he didn't say boo made me want to make him talk, also I don't own Jung Lee or her photographs but I do love them. They are an amazing commentary on the diaspora experience.

 

Nb: Run by Hozier


	4. Certain Things

Part 4: Certain Things

 

 _Something about you_ _  
_ _It's like an addiction_ _  
_ _Hit me with your best shot honey_ _  
_ _I've got no reason to doubt you_ _  
_ _'Cause certain things hurt_ _  
_ _And you're my only virtue_   
And I'm virtually yours

 

Chanyeol hadn’t come to Seoul in four years. The last time he was here, he had just returned from a four months’ long assignment in Kabul, and he hadn’t been feeling very domesticated in the incredibly peaceful, connected, clean and cool world that Seoul had offered. His family wanted to know about marriage plans, about the ex-girlfriend who got married while he was away. Chanyeol had wanted to run, and run he did, to the Catalans. His family didn’t understand their youngest - who runs from a life of wealth and comfort to become a photographer? An award winning photographer, sure but with war, famine and death surrounding him, there was no glamour that the Park family could see in this. So, when Chanyeol’s name came up, an effusive rundown of all the awards that he had won so far always followed, after which there would be an uncomfortable silence, since nobody knew what the elusive son did, when he was not taking photos of death, wars and destructions. However, as it is with children living far from the nest, Chanyeol was his parents’ favorite when he came home, even if they didn’t know quite what to do with him. His older siblings loved their cub just as much, if not more, feeling that their intake of the wealth deprived the baby of what was rightfully his as well - regardless of the fact he had never asked for it. So when Chanyeol came home, it was an overabundance of love - stifling in it’s intensity.

 

Chanyeol had laughingly wondered if he was going to get another rolex this time. In his youth, as an impressionable teen, Chanyeol had a liking for them - his brother who he idolized wore them, after all, and so did his father. When you had too much money and very little to do, you would get what you want. Now, over the years, his love had worn off to a habit but each year, his brother Junmyeon had a watch shipped off to his address in Barcelona. Chanyeol found the action incredibly endearing, even if the watches he wore were more geared towards endurance these days. For Seoul though, he brought a few with him, to make his brother happy. Junmyeon probably felt that he had usurped Chanyeol’s role in life, although he had never wanted to step into his older brother’s polished wing tips, ever. Junmyeon was technically Chanyeol’s half brother. His father had been Chanyeol’s father’s best friend, when he had died, leaving behind a toddler and a friend desperately, quietly in love with his best friend’s widow. After some time, and a lot of wooing, Kim Junmyeon had been absorbed into the Park family, the eldest, most beloved son in everything but his name - Chanyeol’s father hadn’t wanted to wipe his best friend’s legacy from history. Yoora came next, a year later, and Chanyeol, followed the next year. Junmyeon was four years older than him, and he felt his role weigh down on him heavily, Chanyeol knew. He carried the guilt of heading a corporation named Park, when he was a Kim, of carrying the role of the older son when Chanyeol should have been the one stepping in. Both Chanyeol and his father had never cared - Junmyeon was theirs, only if he too saw it that way. Chanyeol saw him as his savior, while Junmyeon saw himself as the usurper. Therein lay their difference. Nobody was harder on Junmyeon, the way Junmyeon was on himself.

 

 _And you keep coming back, coming back again_ _  
_ _Keep running round, running round, running round my head_

 

Chanyeol had wondered if he should call Baekhyun. It had been well over seven months. If he called the number noted on that neat little card he had looked at, at least a thousand times, what would he say?

 

“Hello, remember me? I’m Chanyeol. We hung out for a few days, almost a year back, in Barcelona? I promised to call, and then I didn’t? It’s not my fault though. I was dispatched to South Sudan to document a humanitarian crisis, and after that, went to photograph Egypt and the aftershocks of the Arab Springs. Now I’m back. Want to meet up? Oh, I don’t know how long I’ll be here. I haven’t figured that part out yet? Know a good place to grab a drink?”

 

Yeah that would go down well. Baekhyun would deck him first, and then there would be an earful to follow. Chanyeol couldn’t even blame him, if he did. But Chanyeol missed him. He had. When he had walked the streets of Beirut, saw something pink flapping on a clothesline in Nimule, when he saw delicately built people. When he heard someone sing at a particular tenor. When he ate something unusual. Drank something he had never tried before. He missed him. He missed running his fingers through those pink locks, pinning them back when they got into his eyes. Missed having Baekhyun polish his glasses when his were too smudged to see through. How would he go about explaining that to Baekhyun now? Lebanon had been hard. He found that he missed Baekhyun there the most. How did you explain the concept of missing to someone who had probably moved on and was living his life now? How could Chanyeol go back, and in good conscience upset whatever sense of security the younger man had built for himself? What did he have to offer him, in return for another of those beautiful periods together? Chanyeol didn’t live in Seoul. He didn’t see why he would. Baekhyun he presumed, had friends and families here. Just what he meant to do with this, he had no clue which is why, Chanyeol hadn’t made that call, even after having landed a week back.

 

 _And there's certain things that I adore_ _  
_ _And there's certain things that I ignore_   
But I'm certain that I'm yours

 

Chanyeol was curious though. Was his hair still pink? Did they still shine silver in the cast of the moonlight? Did Baekhyun’s cheeks still turn that pinkish orange like a just ripened apricot when he was happy, upset or making love? Did he sing those songs spontaneously, whenever he was happy? Were they still just Big Bang songs or were new music added to his repertoire? Did he still lean into a person in a certain way, like he wanted his body absorbed into the other’s, when he was feeling particularly affectionate? Make that yipping sound like a puppy wanting affection, when he tried to fall asleep? It always melted Chanyeol’s heart, making him want to protect the smaller man from the world. Was here someone else who had taken Chanyeol’s place to care for him instead? Seven months, eighteen days was a long time. It just took a moment to fall in love after all. Chanyeol wished Baekhyun all the happiness in the world but, he was… curious.

 

So lost was he in his thoughts, that Chanyeol physically started when Junmyeon placed a hand on his shoulders. “You’re a million miles away Chanyeol-ah. Where is it this time? Monaco? Switzerland? South of France?”

 

Chanyeol had laughed. If only his travels were as glamorous as his family had thought them to be. How would he explain to them about the near starvations, the shots being fired, the dead and the dying, the wars and the corruption? Didn’t his works speak for themselves? His father subscribed to Times, since Chanyeol started working with them exclusively. They should be able to see what he did during his _vacations_. Maybe they used the term as a coping mechanism - it would be hard to accept that they might not see him again, like Michelle Lang and Nils Horner’s families hadn’t been able to. That’s the path they chose for themselves. Behind their cameras, photojournalists were immortal, but in reality, all of them were very much flesh and blood. Chanyeol absently rubbed his side, where there was still a dull ache - a goodbye gift from Kabul this time.

 

“The Cayman Islands are particularly gorgeous at this time of the year Hyung. All those models summering, too. Svelte, and thick. Curves and angles. Maybe I’ll go for a visit after Seoul,” he had quipped good naturedly, eyes twinkling mischievously. Junmyeon had laughed, even as he had looked at his brother’s startlingly handsome face, observing the shadows under his laughing eyes and the white lines around his mouth, the wince as he favored his right side, that Junmyeon associated with pain. There was something going on with Chanyeol, and even if the younger man refused to say it, it was his job as his older brother to look after him. Chanyeol carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and hid a lot of things from the family. Junmyeon didn’t confront him about his secrets, knowing that the younger man was entitled to them, at his age. Yet, there were times he wondered if Chanyeol had been like this, so rootless, if he, Junmyeon hadn’t been in the picture. Their parents had been especially affectionate towards Junmyeon growing up, to make up for the loss of a father he didn’t remember. It left Chanyeol on his own all too often, maybe sowing the seeds of isolation in the younger man’s heart. Junmyeon couldn’t help blaming himself each time Chanyeol took off. The first time was his fault, after all. Chanyeol never came home because of him. Even now, sitting in his office, Junmyeon could see him fidgeting, waiting to get away from them all, maybe, most especially Junmyeon. Junmyeon loved both his siblings, but his love for Chanyeol was especially strong - with the knowledge what he had cost the younger man, over and over again. To his defense, he hadn’t known anything when had dived headfirst into the single most reckless thing in his life but here he was, almost ten years later - Still someone who his younger brother couldn’t forgive enough to even live in the same country as him. The first time Chanyeol had come home, he had stayed all of two weeks before rushing into Iraq, in the middle of a goddamned war, rather than staying another moment in Junmyeon’s company. He hadn’t said anything, but Junmyeon knew. How much was Chanyeol supposed to sacrifice so Junmyeon could live the life he had been born to lead?

 

Eagle eyed, he looked at his brother again. Chanyeol was a big believer of fakin’ it until makin’ it but even in his joyous vibrancy, he didn’t look well. You had to know what pockets to look into, which is why their parents and Yoora hadn’t. Junmyeon who had made it it his life’s work studying his errant sibling’s every move, wasn’t as easily fooled. “All that sun must have gone to your head Chanyeol-ah. I’m making an appointment with Doctor Bae for you. She’s a great doctor who used to work at the trauma center of Park Medical Hospital, until she opened up her own practice. We have recently started using her, ourselves since Dr. Kang retired. No..” he said, when he noticed the younger man make a move to protest, “Please don’t say no. I’d feel better knowing you had your annual check up. You know that there’s a history of heart diseases in the Park family. There’s one in mine. I lost my father when he was your age Chanyeol. Do you want to put us through that? You know we have no access to your medical files. Whatever interesting stds you’ve picked up, will remain your secret,” he teased, watching his sibling’s lips quirk up in a reluctant smile. He knew he had won this battle. “Just go for that check up and get whatever you need to be done, for our sakes”.

Chanyeol had never been able to to deny his Hyung’s entreaties, maybe because the older man so rarely asked anything of him. “Dr. Bae, huh?” he had smiled, watching as the joke finally land on his brother who laughed heartily. He could do it. She worked in trauma. What was one more healing gunshot to her? Thank the lord for doctor-patient confidentiality.

 

 _And there's certain things that I adore_ _  
_ _And there's certain things that I ignore_ _  
_ _But I'm certain that I'm yours_   
Certain that I'm yours

 

Bae Joo-hyun was a startlingly beautiful woman. Chanyeol hadn’t expected that. He should have. His Hyung had probably planned it to the tee. Introduce Chanyeol to an accomplished, beautiful woman. Wait for something to take root. If plan A fails, introduce Chanyeol to a gorgeous man, and then see what takes root. Junmyeon was surprisingly flexible that way. As long as he got to keep his little brother in the country. Chanyeol had reluctantly smiled. What was worse though, even though she was beautiful, after that initial spurt of attraction, he could only think of cotton candy hair, and eyes like honey. Where was he supposed to go with this? Bae Joo-hyun would have been the perfect distraction during his recuperation but that was apparently not happening. When she had arched her eyebrow in his direction, while changing the dressing on his wound, he had wondered if he should lie. Then, he figured, he didn’t want to. Doctor-Patient Confidentiality after all. “I am a photojournalist, specializing in wars and unrest,” he had haltingly attempted to explain. “I am familiar with your work, Chanyeol-ssi. They are haunting and heartbreaking,” she had quickly summed up, efficiently cleaning up the wound. “I’m writing you a prescription for antibiotics, since the wound looks too red for my liking, and I expect to see you at the clinic once a day to have your dressing changed,” Chanyeol was about to disagree when she said, “It’s hard to change your own dressings Chanyeol-ssi. Make sure you come, I wouldn’t want you to get sick before your next tour,” and he had caved in.

 

He had begun to enjoy his time with Bae Joo-hyun. There were no expectations on either sides. Joo-hyun knew Chanyeol wasn’t emotionally available and she has had her share of charming, emotionally unavailable men. Chanyeol, well, he just wanted a man who reminded him of honey,marbles and cottoncandy. So friendship was the way for the two of them. A quiet, sweet one, that often involved swapping Star Wars and music trivia, and surprisingly, him talking to her about the atrocities of war. Bae Joo-hyun was a healer, inside out. It surprised him, that somehow, while he hadn’t been looking, Chanyeol had ended up making his first friend in years. Now, only if Baekhyun would stop haunting him. Almost to forget the man haunting him, Chanyeol had given his friend’s brother Kyungsoo a call. Kyungsoo had wanted to display Chanyeol’s undisplayed photographs in his gallery. Chanyeol had just one condition - he wouldn’t display anything on the devastations of war, something Kyungsoo had agreed to, readily. Instead, he wanted to do an exhibition on “Hope”. His tribute to the pink haired man, who danced to samba under a full moon, while Chanyeol had looked on, entranced.

 

 _And you keep coming back, coming back again_ _  
_ _Keep running round, running round, running round my head_

  
  


Author’s note: Clearly don’t own James Arthur either. I wanted to bring all of Exo, a little bit at a time. Depending on the muse, the Lord knows who else will show up? Did anyone recognize Irene? She’s bae and I find her incredibly pretty. So there :D also Michelle Lang and Nils Horner were war photojournalists who lost their lives trying to represent the human condition. This was my small attempt at remembering them.

NB: Certain Things by James Arthur


	5. Colour Me In

Part 5: Colour Me In 

 

_ I tried to repress it, then I carried its crown _ _   
_ _ I reached out to undress it and love let me down _ _   
_ _ Love let me down _ _   
_ _ So I tried to erase it, but the ink bled right through _ _   
_ __ Almost drove myself crazy when these words led to you

 

Chanyeol had made a short list of the photos he will display at the gallery. Kyungsoo suggests naming the exhibition Gidae*. Chanyeol thinks it's incredibly apt. All he has to do now is drop off the prints at the gallery, with the curator or, the assistant curator who will take it over from there. Chanyeol had been model in his demands - the profits go to a charity the Park family supports. He doesn’t want or need it. Kyungsoo just has to display this one photo, that he won’t bring in until the day of the exhibition, since there’s no question of curating it. He is giving them fifty individual pieces from all around the world - They could pick or choose from them. The last one, is his own. Also, Chanyeol won’t sell it. It is to be displayed, as his tribute to hope. Having dealt with tearful artists, arrogant ones - dramatic scenes involving expensive china being tossed about, of artists ripping off their clothes and running around, to display their disappointment in the institution of art, and tantrums of all other kinds, Kyungsoo finds his demands easy, sweet, and doable. Chanyeol has his yes. He has Bae Joo-hyun help him pick the fifty photographs he would be dropping off, soon. Chanyeol will then print them out, matte them, and frame them rustic alder wood, found in abundance in Korea.  Joo-hyun backs out at the last minute though, believing it wouldn’t be true to him, if she picked the photos. Chanyeol rolls his eyes, pointing out, he is very definitely not an artist - he is a photojournalist. There is a huge margin between the two. She sticks out her tongue, and promises to accompany him on opening night since glamour hadn’t been a part of her vocabulary in a while. Chanyeol rolls his eyes again and asks her if she wants to marry Junmyeon - the two of them could fall in love with each other’s wardrobe first. Joo-hyun laughs. “I don’t know what I’m looking for but Junmyeon-ssi isn’t it. We have certain similarities that will end up in one murdering the other,” Chanyeol marvels at her ability to speak so easily of murder and death. Maybe its because she is a doctor who has worked in trauma and ER, but it is more likely because she hadn’t ever been touched by the ugliness of it, personally, beyond the mental screen that protects her as a doctor. Chanyeol is glad. Bae Joo-hyun has a gentle heart. He wouldn’t really want it smirched by the ugliness of what he had seen. He is amazed how it had managed to not touch her, working where she had. Joo-hyun had a very relatable, human quality that made Chanyeol care about her - it was rare for him to make friends. He would like to stay friends with her. Maybe pushing her in Junmyeon’s direction was his way of doing it.    
Look at us, hyung, he had smiled. Both matchmaking to keep things the way we like it. 

 

Chanyeol had walked home, and stared at his folder of photographs for a little while. Where would he begin? How would he even start? Instead, he did what a sane man would. Mailed it all to the gallery’s email address Kyungsoo said the assistant monitored, with the salutation, 

 

“Choose what you like and let me know. I’ll take off the watermark and print, and frame them for you.

 

Cy. Park” 

 

He could have used Park Chanyeol, but anglicizing his name had become such a habit, and since it was the professional name he worked under, that Chanyeol didn’t give it another thought. He had a lot on his mind. Eyes the color of amber and cotton candy pink hair. Of a heartbreaking smile and curious eyes. Fingers that walked their way up his back while their owner was lost in his own world and a voice that could break hearts he didn’t know could break. Somehow the exhibition he had set up, hadn’t taken his mind off it, the way he had wanted it to. 

 

What would Baekhyun do if he called him, today?  Chanyeol won’t but it was a game of what-if he played, and often. 

 

_ Well I tried to control it _ _   
_ _ And cover it up _ _   
_ _ I reached out to console it _ _   
_ _ It was never enough _ _   
_ __ Never enough…   
  


Baekhyun came to work to find a work dump. That war photographer had dumped his collection of photographs in the gallery inbox and had pretty much ordered Baekhyun to pick and choose. The curator in Baekhyun was thrilled, even as the person was annoyed. Either Cy Park didn’t care enough or he felt nothing, and both of the options seemed like a terrible characteristic in an artist. They were supposed to be mad, passionate, wild and real - and here he was, dealing with a dispassionate war photojournalist, who couldn’t care less which of his photographs were displayed for an exhibition he wanted based on hope. 

 

Baekhyun, with his lips twisted in a frown, had opened the folder, when realized that there was a method to Cy’s madness. They were all photographs, in the remotest parts of the world, but they all showed little joys that bloomed, even at the face of the greatest adversity. The joy that was the greatest gift of the human condition. Hope. He started to look through them again, frowning, his nimble fingers scrolling fast, trying to isolate what he couldn’t pinpoint. There was a common thread. Baekhyun laughed when he had finally gotten it, running his fingers through his newly colored aqua hair. It reminded him of fluffy clouds on a summer day; blue with tinges of silver. Bits of aquamarine and green. It will be a nightmare to maintain but Baekhyun loved it. Now he wished he had kept his hair pink for a little while longer, just for laugh. Cy Park’s photos had a common element - each of his photos had a flash of pink. A pink abaya in the distance, a pink headwrap floating in the wind, pink earthenwares sitting serenely on land cracked with drought, child with a pink doll, a woman in pink lipstick in the middle of one of Brazil’s most infamous favela. Boys flying a pink kite in a zone demolished by earthquakes. There was a bit of pink in every of his photos. The merest speck but it was there. All was set against a background of sadness, despair and loss. Of wars and famines but hope, like those sudden flashes of pink, peeped through. Baekhyun, without meaning to, started looking into the photos a bit deeper, trying to choose his favorites - the ones that spoke to him. At this point he could do nothing else, but. Cy Park had a lot of sensitivity… for a man who lived and breathed war and unrest. He dated them meticulously. It amazed him to see, the man had taken them all just within the past year or less. Baekhyun had been amazed at just how much Cy seemed to travel. Here he was, still unable to get over his first vacation ever.  Baekhyun had laughed wryly. This was not something he needed to think about now. There were works to be done. Chanyeol needed to stay out of his reality. Baekhyun was perfectly happy to have him present in his imagination. He didn't have it in him to hope for anything but.

 

_ So I tried to forget it _ _   
_ _ That was all part of the show _ _   
_ _ Told myself I'd regret it _ _   
_ __ But what do I know   
  


Kyungsoo had come in much later to find Baekhyun sleeping in the curator’s enclave, face first on the laptop. There were printouts all around him of photos, pasted on cardboard, mimicking how they would look on the wall. There were comments written beside each of them, to judge what went best with the theme of hope. Kyungsoo wasn't sure what was going on but his friend looked exhausted. He had some paperwork to do himself which was why he had come in so late, burning candles at both ends. It was a good thing. Kyungsoo would take Baekhyun home with him. Turning on one of the mood lights the curator insisted that they needed, he got to work while Baekhyun slept. He was glad for it now because the muted light didn't wake up his friend. Baekhyun had a resilience that prevented others from seeing when he was hurting or tired. He laughed. He yelled and he threw enough tantrum so that his personality filled up a room, leaving people blind to his sufferings. He was the only one Kyungsoo himself could depend on, when he had been nearly catatonic with grief. Baekhyun knew some of the reasons of course but not all. The woman who was his sister-in-law now had been pregnant when she had come to see him. Kyungsoo hadn't been with her since his conscription so he couldn't have been the father. If she had asked him, he had loved her blindly enough to forgive it all. Even if she had turned to his brother. Almost two years later, she looked brittle. Kyungsoo’s brother had always been a serial cheater. Great guy otherwise. Just not capable of commitment. Couple that with his well hidden alcoholism, it was not the fairytale ending one would hope for. Now, he saw her pace with the child, disillusioned with her marriage and her dissipated husband. Kyungsoo could have told her, then, he looked good on paper. He really did. The weight of the responsibility for the Do corporation will however eventually fall on Kyungsoo when their father eventually steps down. His brother loved his flashes and glitter but wasn't fond of the stress that went with it. Kyungsoo had always liked it, even though he preferred to stay out of the limelight as much as possible. He could have told the girl she was selling her soul for empty promises. She would have the money. But, the power she sought as the trophy wife wouldn't come to be. That would be Kyungsoo’s wife’s role and, she would be anything but a trophy. His brother had been too blind in his lust and the woman, in her greed. Kyungsoo wouldn't want a woman who would only want him for who he would be, eventually. He smiled. When he had lost a brother to disappointment, another had appeared. He quickly pushed the long blue bangs off Baekhyun’s face to watch the blue shadows deepen under the yellow light to resemble light bruises. Kyungsoo had since become a student of the human condition. It was that or an alcoholic and Baekhyun was brutal in his treatment of Kyungsoo’s hangovers. So much that he had stopped drinking in excess, shuddering to remember the loud music playing by his ears at 6 am and being presented by oily pancake and spicy, greasy chicken stew. Passive aggressive fucker, Kyungsoo thought, amused, affectionately smoothing his hair. He was the sole reason Kyungsoo could come out of his own personal black hole. Baekhyun thought Kyungsoo had made his life easier when, Baekhyun had saved Kyungsoo’s life. Who owed whom the world then?

 

He pushed more of his hair back from his face and whispered, 

“Baekhyunnie? Wake up. We need to get home,” Baekhyun pushed him away, aiming at the general area of his face. Kyungsoo had laughed, jumped back and laughed again. “Baekhyun-ah! Baek! Wake up! Up!” 

 

The boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Kyungsoo thought he had heard him say, Chanyeol.  Why Baekhyun would talk dream about the photographer, he didn't know, unless he was working in his sleep too, he didn't know but thinking about it at quarter to two wasn't happening either. Nudging the man awake, he half carried Baekhyun out of the room towards the parking lot. Kyungsoo ignored his phone as it kept on ringing. He wasn't in the best shape to deal with his sister-in-law today.

 

_ Come let me love you, come let me take this through the end _ _   
_ _ Of all these useless dreams of living _ _   
_ _ All these useless dreams _ _   
_ __ All these useless dreams of living

 

 

Author's note: Gidae means hope. Apart from that, no one new showed up! Yay! I'm just trying to bridge the way into these two meeting. Don't own Damien Rice. 

 

Nb: color me in by Damien Rice 


	6. In Five Years Time

Part 6: 5 Years Time

 

 

 _Oh well in five years time we could be walking round a zoo_ __  
_With the sun shining down over me and you_ __  
_And there'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too_   
And I'll put my hands over your eyes, but you'll peep through

 

Chanyeol had received a curated list from the yippy assistant curator Kyungsoo employed. He called the person yippy mainly because of how annoyed they had gotten when he had tried to put in his two cents. He had gotten a sub zero email typed out painstakingly in English, that they knew what they were doing but of course his any input was welcome. The sarcasm was so thick, Chanyeol could almost taste it. He had rolled his eyes and let the yippy curator know, no, everything was fantastic, and it truly was. But he still had his pièce de résistance and he hoped that didn't throw off yippy’s image of whatever he had in his head out of the window. It was one of his condition for the exhibition, he had relished in reminding yippy. Another arctic email had arrived, this time in Hangul. No doubt yippy had already exhausted their command of the english language berating him. Of course they knew, and remembered the condition. They always indulged the artist, no matter what their insane demands were (or so it was implied). Would Park-ssi kindly bring it with the rest of collection so they could find the perfect place for it. Perfect place, Chanyeol imagined would be behind a pillar somewhere. His original plan was to take that picture with the rest of the photographs but the Devil on his shoulder saw the opportunity to fuck with yippy - an opportunity fate had denied him with his family and even his friend so yippy would have to do. No, he had simply mailed them back, imagining them get angry, gleefully. Kyungsoo, he imagined wouldn't mind. Chanyeol didn't like to brag but his name alone carried a hefty price tag. Although, what his friend's brother was doing with his gallery was a mystery to him. The last he had heard from his hyung, Kyungsoo was being groomed to step in the role of the CEO of Do Corps. Chanyeol couldn't say he was overly surprised. Kyungsoo’s brother, Yo-han had been a few years older than Chanyeol. Probably closer to the Junmyeon’s age. However Chanyeol had served the moment he turned 18, hoping to get it out of the way while Yo-han went a little later. Then, Chanyeol had gone off to do his Bachelor's abroad while Yo-han took frequent “business trips”. They kept in touch although it's been more infrequent than not over the past few years. They had originally bonded over the feeling of alienation in the military for two years but Chanyeol knew his type. Yo-han liked his drinks, occasional drugs and his dames and not in any particular order. Neither did he like the pressure looking after such a large corporation would place on him. Father Do perhaps knew his son enough to orchestrate the younger one into taking charge. He couldn't imagine why Yo-han would mind, either.

 

Still didn't answer why Kyungsoo was so invested in this gallery. But then, everyone needed an outlet. He imagined Kyungsoo’s was art. He moved to pick up the stack of photographs carefully rolled in poster tubes and tossed them in the car’s back storage. What Kyungsoo did wasn't really his concern, although this gallery had gifted Chanyeol with his new source of amusement - Yippy. He had since received 5 more messages from Yippy about what photographs to bring. Also how he would like the photographs to be matted. Or developed. Chanyeol had mailed back, maybe they would like to take the pictures as well. There had been a few hours of offended silence before there had been a reluctant mail saying, he was of course welcome to do what he wanted to and they wouldn't dream of interfering. Chanyeol really hadn't cared but it was amusing enough to get Yippy riled up that he hadn't really let off since. He was weak.

 

 _Oh well I look at you and say_ __  
_It's the happiest that I've ever been_ __  
_And I'll say I no longer feel I have to be James Dean_ __  
_And she'll say_ __  
_"Yah well I feel all pretty happy too"_   
And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you

 

He had ambled in, into the gallery and sat down to cool his heels at the lobby. He had texted Kyungsoo who had let him know someone would meet him there to help him with the photographs. Chanyeol had hoped it would be yippy. He had been staring at a stained glass recreation of Buddha when he Chanyeol had heard some footsteps and turned around.

 

Then, he knew what it was like to be hit by a Mac truck for the first time, as his breath whooshed out of him. The cotton candy pink hair was no longer there, instead taken over by a color that reminded him of the heart of the sea. The honey colored eyes widened, and a hectic flush broke out on his cheeks.

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol had talked himself out of some rough situations. Unfortunately it did not seem like this was going to be it. With his luck…

 

Baekhyun had looked at his hands clutching the many, many cardboard photograph tubes and said, “you're Cy?” he could hear the horror in the younger man’s voice. Yep. It's Yippy.

 

He had to physically straighten himself like the manifestation of almost a year's worth of dreams and hopes weren't assailing him now from all directions. “hey Baekhyun. I didn't know you worked here.” if I had I would have never come here. I'd have run in in the opposite direction and never looked back.  Or. He'd have run here. Who knew? He certainly couldn't think at this point.

 

“I guess both of us didn't know a lot of things Cy.” but before Chanyeol could backtrack and apologize, Baekhyun had laughed. “here I kept wondering if you were a drug dealer, or a runaway murderer. Turns out you're a world famous photographer. Serves me right for assuming,” and then he started laughing. Unsure if Baekhyun would smack him if he went closer, he still, gingerly. When Baekhyun stopped laughing just long enough to see the terrified expression on his face, he started laughing again, gasping for breath. “stop looking like that Park Chanyeol and come help me with these tubes. While you are at it, you might as well explain why you were being such a diva too,” Chanyeol had grinned and taken a step back.

 

“you were being so yippy about it. I couldn't help myself,” he had grinned again. Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “sure give the poor assistant curator a hard time, why don't you?” A swatch of hair fell over his laughing honey eyes, causing Chanyeol to act purely out of instinct, and pin the fluffy strands back using a paper clip. They had both frozen, unsure if they should step closer as the heart dictated. If they should cry. Or, just laugh at the absurdity of it all. They had both chosen laughter, even if their hearts ached, a little. What ifs. If then.

 

That's how Kyungsoo had found them. Laughing, a little desperately. Baekhyun with his hair pinned back with a black paper clip and Chanyeol, standing a little close to the younger man, than usual. He didn't know what to make of it but, he knew he would keep an eye on the situation. The hand clutching Baekhyun's shoulder looked familiar with the task, like it has done it a hundred times already. Where Chanyeol would have the opportunity to know Baekhyun and why Baek wouldn't tell him about knowing the star of the show escaped him. Kyungsoo would have to keep an eye on this, if only to take his mind off his own personal life that was a mess.

 _In five years time I might not know you_ __  
_In five years time we might not speak_ __  
_In five years time we might not get along_ __  
_In five years time you might just prove me wrong_ __  
_Oh there'll be love love love_ __  
_Wherever you go_ __  
_There'll be love_  


 

Author’s note: I thought of reasons why Baekhyun would be upset at Chanyeol but couldn't think of any. He hadn't really expected him to call in the first place and had been grateful when he hadn't. Relationships are complicated and I'm bad at them. Idk. Bear with me if you want to.

 

NB: In Five Years’ Time by Noah and the Whale

 


	7. Sunshower

Part 7: Sunshower

 

_ Dark as roses, fine as sand _ _   
_ _ Feel your healing and your sting again _ _   
_ _ I hear you laughing and my soul is saved _ _   
_ __ On forgotten graves you cry

 

Kyungsoo had a long day. All he wanted was to get out of his work, and go to Baekje, his gallery. His place for peace. Kyungsoo hadn’t needed an alternate income, unlike what Baekhyun seemed to think. He had seen his friend fret over the books, the numbers and shower prospective clients with his enthusiasm on lean months - when in reality, Baekje could be in the red for this lifetime, and it would make no difference to Kyungsoo’s finances. But, it was just one more reason he loved his best friend. There was nobody else like him. Lately, though, he had seen him slightly lost. Since Chanyeol had come into the picture, Baekhyun had looked, like he was seeing a man, not just a person, after a long time. The longing on his friend’s face was so naked, so painful, that Kyungsoo had often found himself turning away from Baekhyun, feeling as if he was intruding on his moments of privacy. Like he had been on the outside looking in. Kyungsoo, despite his mostly placid temperament, wasn’t stupid when it came to little pieces of informations. Piecing them together was one of his gifts. So, when Chanyeol spoke of his time in Catalonia, he had started seeing a picture. Barcelona. Where Baekhyun had been been less than a year back. Chanyeol lived in Barcelona. Wasn’t that interesting? They spoke like new acquaintances in Kyungsoo’s presence, but Kyungsoo was well versed in that art. Didn’t he do that with his sister-in-law, everyday? It was the touches he noticed. Ones that lingered for a moment more than necessary. Kyungsoo loved Baekhyun like his brother. Like a brother, he would watch out for him - even if his life’s aim is not to meddle. Maybe push. A slight push. Although in what direction, he hadn’t quite decided yet. That would depend on Park Chanyeol. It would give him some respite from his own k-drama of a life. 

 

_ Crawl like ivy up my spine _ _   
_ _ Through my nerves and into my eyes _ _   
_ _ Cuts like anguish _ _   
_ __ Or recollections of better days gone by

 

Bae Joohyun was curious. She was the proverbial cat when she was curious, digging into boxes best left alone - He was curious about about Baekje. Chanyeol had gone from wanting bare minimum to do with this exhibition to being on location all the time. He came by the evenings to hang out. A drink. Dinner. Watch old Community episodes. Joohyun had discovered had discovered an unexplored love for American comedies with Chanyeol. The subtitles were a little hard to understand since some uniquely English phrases did not translate well in Hangul, but that was Chanyeol’s job,to explain. Her friend had been distracted. He was sad, and excited at the same time. Joohyun had come to see what had affected Chanyeol, who seems unflappable at the best of times. Was it a woman? If so why not spend time with her? Chanyeol’s time in Seoul was limited - even with his slow healing wound. Why would he waste time with a friend, when something more wonderous was waiting for him on the other end? No matter. Baekje would tell her all. She would just go in and…

 

A man with a heart shaped smile stood, head thrown back, laughing. His eyes sparkled with humor and affection and something Bae Joohyun wasn’t able to see from where she stood. He had broad shoulders, muscled arms, encased in a plain black t-shirt and hair as black as the chinese ink her sister worked with in her art. When Joohyun was younger, she would stick her finger in the silky ink, watching it quickly dry on her fingers. Would his strands feel as silky un her fingers? Joohyun wants to know. He was laughing at something the most ethereal looking man she had ever seen was saying. He had delicate features and a face more suited to sculptures than reality. The blue silver capped off the fairy prince aspect of it all. What was this place, she hazily wondered, eyes drawn back to the black haired man with heart on his lips. Who was he? 

 

Kyungsoo was putting the finishing touches on their latest exhibit with Baekhyun. It opened tomorrow. Consisting of incredible lifelike botanical sculptures of bronze and enamels with Faberge egg like secrets, this was fated to be a sold out collection, something Baekhyun had been gleefully pointing out to him every few minutes. It was good to see his friend laughing, the clouded eyes clear once more. Kyungsoo had laughed with him. A quiet noise had him turning around with the textbook shopkeeper smile, when he noticed her. Black haired, black eyes. Red lips and rose tinged skin. She looked like she had stepped out of one of the Korean fairytales of his childhood. The curious eyes studying him seemed to want to bore into his head, unravel all his secrets. Normally Kyungsoo would have been the first one to rush in, to say hi. Instead he stood there, studying her, just as she studied him like a specimen under a microscope. Baekhyun however didn't follow suit. He rushed in to say hi, asking how she was. If she had anything specific in mind for someone special.

 

“oh no, I'm just looking,” she had coloured up, embarrassed. “one of my good friends, Park Chanyeol is having an exhibition here so I wanted to see the gallery he so raves about,” she watched as the blue haired man's eyes went blank, even as he physically took a step back. So that's how the wind blows Chanyeol, she thought even as she looked at the man. Joohyun wasn't the cruel sort and she certainly didn't want to come between her friend's budding relationship with this beautiful man so she quickly tacked on, “well not friend. Almost a brother, really. If he wasn't so annoying, I would have called Chanyeol my brother since I always wanted one.” She watched as the younger man's face colored again, even while a smile threatened to break through. Chanyeol was toast, she thought, smiling even as the blue haired man smiled and muttered, yes. Chanyeol was indeed an idiot. Joohyun wanted to protect her friend's honor but she figured that she saw the friend side of Chanyeol. If the beautiful man here got to see the idiot side of him, she figured, more power to him. The eye smile broke through again, making him look even more ethereal than before. Joohyun sighed. Figures the only excitement she'd get in her beige life was a second hand one. They laughed, skipping the sensitive topic, talked and introduced themselves. Baekhyun even introduced her to his strangely somber companion. The one who was laughing just a while ago, with his heart shaped lips. Do Kyungsoo. His boss and his best friend. She could feels his eyes burning into her back, all the while. Baekhyun had just offered to show her the new exhibit when a new client walked in. Clearly a paying one, given the familiarity with which he greeted Baekhyun. Torn between his new friend, and a guaranteed sale, Baekhyun looked around helplessly, until he noticed Kyungsoo and lit up. 

 

“‘Soo will show you around Joohyun! He knows more about this exhibit then I ever will!” and he whispered, as he lead his client away. So she was shoved off on the quietest man she had ever met, with a smile that could light up a street. Having walked away, so Baekhyun wouldn’t hear, she turned towards the man in question, “you don’t have to show me around, Kyungsoo-ssi, I can leave and visit Baekhyun-ssi some other day,” she had already started walking away, when he had called out, “It’s a great exhibit. Why not look around today?” It was not the most charming of invitations, but for some reason, Joohyun smiled. “Why not, Kyungsoo-ssi?”

 

_ But its all right _ _   
_ _ When you're caught in pain _ _   
_ _ And you feel the rain come down _ _   
_ _ Its all right _ _   
_ _ When you find your way _ _   
_ _ Then you see it disappear _ _   
_ _ Its all right _ _   
_ _ Though your gardens grey _ _   
_ _ I know all your graces _ _   
_ _ Someday will flower _ _   
_ __ In the sweet sunshower   
  


Kyungsoo was a step behind her, while she walked ahead, looking at the wonders of the exhibition around her. “These sculptures are all made with enamels on bronze, copper and in some cases, gold. However, they all have secrets, not unlike lost Romanov treasures. Care to guess what they can be?” Joohyun silently shook her head, caught up in her lesson. Kyungsoo picked up the sculpture she was admiring. A half bloomed magnolia blossom in shades of whites and pinks, on a gold stalk, complete with emerald green leaves. Joohyun looked, admiring the deep magenta of of the enamel that slowly faded into a milky white towards the top, and the clear dewdrop clinging on the slightly unfurled petal. She looked up in askance, wondering what the secret was, when Kyungsoo handed her the flower, guiding her hand towards the south window, where the most light came in. He tweaked the gold-veined leaf and the magnolia bud flung open, when Joohyun didn’t even see a hinge there before. There was a tiny, hand painted fairy tale scene, with a man and a woman in a hanbok, looking at each other, under the sun. The sun itself was a golden stone, embedded on the blue sky, and when the light from the window hit it, the refracted golden light, lit up the small fairytale scene, bringing it to life. She might have gasped, she didn’t know when he smiled again, those heart shaped lips stretching, causing her heart to ache. “These sculptures are are based on Faberge eggs. Enamelled egg sculptures Tsar Nicholas gave his wife Tsarina Alexandra with hidden compartments, to immortalize their love” He watched as her eyes widen, sheen over with the romance of the story even as he ruthlessly added, “Those eggs lasted, even if nothing else they made did,” Kyungsoo closed the magnolia blossom, watching as the light in her eyes lessen. “Well, I can’t be showing you all of the secrets Joohyun-ssi today, but, I’ll tell you what, if you come to the exhibition tomorrow, I might be persuaded to show them all to you”. She smiled, looking a little stunned as she quickly bowed, saying her goodbyes, before rushing out without looking back. Kyungsoo had smiled. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. He just needed to figure out what role Bae Joohyun played in the larger scheme of things, and in Park Chanyeol’s life before he looked into what role she would play in his own. It would be an exhilarating process finding out, he thought, thinking about his still racing heart. Her face had flushed when she had bowed. Maybe, it wouldn’t be a one way street this time around. He looked at his hand. He could still feel the electric shock of touching her softer one. All things considered, it would be interesting.

 

_ Eyes like oceans so far away _ _   
_ _ A feather trail to a better way _ _   
_ _ Worried mornings turn into days _ _   
_ __ Then into worried nights

 

When Joohyun had hurried out, to her it had felt like her heart was following a wild beat without her knowledge or understanding. She thought of those heart shaped lips quirking as they spoke to her, those darkly intense eyes focused on her face, like they could read what was on her mind and she had panicked again. All she wanted to do was find out what draw Baekje had on her friend. She found him. What she hasn't expected to find was someone who could have a draw on her. Made her skin feel sensitive, magnetized. Lips throb. Body flush. Swallow hard. Hands tremble. Joohyun was a doctor. She understood that it was a very basic chemistry. She could even revel in it. She didn't know why it still scared her so. Why that man… Kyungsoo made her feel like a hunted animal on the verge of extinction. That wasn't what concerned her so though. There had been men who made her feel haunted. What she didn't like was this was the first time in years, she hadn't been strictly opposed to it. So instead of running of course Joohyun would go to the gallery tomorrow. Joohyun was a cat. Curiosity outweighed everything - even her own emotional safety. 

 

_   
_ _ I know all your graces _ _   
_ _ Someday will flower _ _   
_ _ In the sweet sunshower _ _   
_ _ And its all right _ _   
_ _ All you'll be you are today _ _   
_ _ Are today _ _   
_ _ Its all right _ _   
_ _ All you'll be you are today _ _   
_ __ Are today.........

 

 

NB: Sunshower by Chris Cornell

 

Author’s note: I haven’t had the chance to update for a few weeks, now that I did… well, who knows? Hope you enjoyed the update. 


	8. Just Breathe

Chapter 8: Just Breathe

 

“Do I look okay in this?” she had asked, causing Chanyeol’s head to snap up and eyed her like she was an unpredictable, wild animal. If she wasn't so amused, she should have been insulted. But she was amused so Joohyun let it go. 

 

“I had just asked you if my dress was okay Chanyeol. Not if my butt looks too big in this dress, so ease up,” and he had laughed. They were going to the exhibition this evening. Joohyun had hyped it up enough that it left no wiggle room for Chanyeol to say no, even if he had wanted to. As he had no desire to say no, she had gotten what she had wanted easily. The curious cat in her was still reveling in the sizzle and pop on her skin when Do Kyungsoo had touched her hand. So here she was, going all out. Which brought to her to her current line of question, “Well?” and Chanyeol had laughed this time. “You know that there's no right answer to, does my butt look too big, Dr. Bae,” he had gently teased. “But you look gorgeous. Why are you so dressed up anyway?” and Joohyun had froze. It was quite complicated to explain the situation cliff notes style: your boy's best friend thrills my hormones. I want to thrill his right back. Somehow she didn't think Chanyeol would be okay with that explanation, more because he wasn't ready to talk about Baekhyun-ssi at all. So she had shrugged and said she needed some glam and culture in her life.  Chanyeol had teased her saying it was really too bad Junmyeon wouldn't join them. She had laughed it off by saying that the gold digger in her was deeply saddened at this loss. Since Chanyeol had come to know that she was anything but, he had laughed it off too. She had Do Kyungsoo on her mind. She had wanted to see him tonight. 

 

Kyungsoo really didn't expect Joohyun to come. She had no reason to. He was abnormally attracted to her. More than he had been in a long time - long time, since her. But that was on him. The fun part of these things were, the party wasn't obligated to feel that same attraction. With Ms. Bae you didn't know. She had one hell of a poker face. He had enough to think about with his guests. Baekhyun was doing an amazing job handling them. Walking around with them, talking, steering them towards the pieces he thought were suitable for them. All of the pieces were attracting no little attention but, one was booked. Baekhyun hadn't been surprised. Kyungsoo often bought pieces from his own exhibition if he liked them. But this was the first time he hadn't bought one for himself - instead thinking about the liquid black eyes that widened in awe when the light had hit the little topaz inside. Her cheeks had flushed and there had been an intriguing pout on her lips. Kyungsoo found himself wanting to see that expression again. He had shook his head, smiling to something someone had said, when a small hand tapped his shoulder. Kyungsoo had swung around to see, 

 

“Soo Mi,” he intoned flatly. 

She had laughed as she used to when they were teenagers in love. Kyungsoo used to compare it to tinkling crystals. Unfortunately no matter how you dislike someone, their basic characters didn't change. Her laugh still tinkled. Except maybe Kyungsoo had grown older and less fond of crystals. 

“Your Hyung and I wanted to celebrate your success with you Kyungaoo,” she said brightly. He nodded, eyeing Yo-han next to her. He couldn't imagine his hyung would actually come to celebrate Baekje’s success. Not because he didn't love Kyungsoo. He had a distant affection for Kyungsoo in the same way you had for something familiar you didn't quite understand. He was even grateful to Kyungsoo for stepping in, for taking over the decision making process, leaving him to do what he liked best. But Yo-han wasn't the sort who would celebrate mainly because it wouldn't be a concept that would occur to him inside his rarefied bubble. It hadn't been his Hyung’s idea to come but, he had come for some reason and it wouldn't be a small one. He had evenly looked at his hyung and thanked him, watching the older man fidget uncomfortably. Yes. Yo-han wasn't good at lying. He needed something. He had looked at Soo Mi again and had very politely told them he was glad they could make it. He had to make sure that there would be no invite sent out to them the next time. Yo-han had given him an almost bloodless smile, and said he wanted a minute to talk when Kyungsoo had the time. Kyungsoo had sighed inwardly, knowing what this was about. His brother had been gambling again, perhaps. Whatever it was, it involved a huge sum of money he can't justify to their father. So of course Kyungsoo was it. He had nodded imperceptibly, watching the stiff set of his Hyung’s shoulders relax. He would take care of it. Of course he would. But now he needed to avoid Soo Mi. 

 

Baekhyun had kept stealing glances at the door. He knew why he was doing it, but struck him as odd was, so was Kyungsoo. For a moment he had wondered if Kyungsoo was expecting to see Soo Mi but his eyes had none of the remote, arctic expression Baekhyun had come to associate with Kyungsoo’s sister in law. Kyungsoo’s expression had been playful. Curious. Baekhyun hadn't seen that expression in a while and he would be glad to see it again, although he still wasn't sure, to what purpose. He would find out. Baekhyun had looked again to see Chanyeol come in. For the first time he was dressed somewhat formally in a shirt that fell somewhere between teal and charcoal. His hair was pushed back and he had his glasses on. He had on tailored slacks  and a discreet belt. This Chanyeol looked intimidating and with him, he had the ethereal Bae Joohyun. He didn't know what to feel about the two of them. She had said that she had no interest in him. Their body language gave no indication of intimacy but at the same time, Chanyeol had told him that he didn't play the boy - girl game. His questions, such as they were, weren't left unanswered too long. She had rushed at him, her sunshine overpowering his gloom. Pleasantries exchanged, she had blurted out,  “where is Kyungsoo-sshi?” Baekhyun had been too surprised to say anything but point in Kyungsoo’s general direction, when she had shot him another smile and just walked on, like a homing pigeon, leaving behind two very confused men. 

 

“Hell no wonder she asked me if the dress looked okay,” he heard Chanyeol mutter. Baekhyun had ruefully looked at the face, all shadows and angles, and laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I had thought she was with you,” he had whispered. “I don't want Bae Joohyun, Baekhyun-ah,” and Baekhyun had the feeling that more was being said then he could compute. The moment was broken by a waiter offering them some wine. They had both declined, but he heard Chanyeol’s laugh rumble deep in his throat. “and she won't marry Junmyeon,” when Baekhyun had turned to look at look at him curiously, he told the younger man all about his poor attempt at matchmaking, leaving the teal haired man in fits. Baekhyun had laughingly looked up to tease Kyungsoo with his eyes when he saw who he was with. Yo-han had wandered away with a crony, drinking and making merry. Soo Mi had finally managed to pin Kyungsoo, whose face, though expressionless, was bone white from whatever was being said. Joohyun was watching the whole thing from a few feet away dispassionately, like you would watch an experiment. He was expecting the pretty Ms. Bae to turn away and walk back, mourning his friend's loss before he even knew about it when, something curious happened. Joohyun tossed her hair and slowly glided over to where Kyungsoo was, slowly tucking her arm in his, and leaning in, in a public, nonverbal act of possession. Baekhyun saw his friend's eyes widen for a split second before the poker face slammed back on. He leaned in, trying to see what Kyungsoo said, acutely aware that Chanyeol had leaned in with him. 

Kyungsoo seemed to have said her name, and Joohyun had looked up to smile at him sunnily.  

 

“Did she just say, sorry I'm late?” Chanyeol had whispered disbelievingly. “why do I feel like I am in an avant garde one act play here?” and Baekhyun had laughed again. “that's because you are too caught up in your own world Chanyeol-ah,” he had teased, not expecting a large warm hand to rest at the small of his back. “Not true Baekhyun. I'm just too caught up in you,” Baekhyun had looked at him, stunned, feeling hia face flood with warmth. A voice in his head had laughed at how his own expression had perhaps mirrored Kyungsoo’s from a moment ago. He felt the arm at the small of his back guiding him somewhere, unknown, his body slack, unresisting. Baekhyun had looked back to see Kyungsoo’s hand in Joohyun’s. Fingers tangled. Laughter twinkling in eyes that had been somber for too long. Somehow Kyungsoo’s eyes had settled things for him, and he leaned against the taller man, trusting him to lead him into the unknown. 

 

_ Stay with me... _ _   
_ __ Let's just breathe...   
  


A/N: the title is inspired by Pearl Jam’s Just Breathe. 


	9. Pillowtalk

Part 9: Pillow Talk

 

Chanyeol drove and he sat there quietly, almost in daze. Any other time, he would be poking around the expensive car, playing with the sound system. Asking a million questions about how it all worked. Now, Baekhyun sat down, quietly staring at him lap, until he felt a large, warm hand engulf his. Chanyeol placed a lingering kiss on his wrist, causing Baekhyun to shudder a little. His eyes were still on the road ahead but he must have felt Baekhyun tremble since there was a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. Baekhyun felt his whole body break out in large goosebumps at that smile alone while the butterflies in his stomach morphed to large turkeys beating their humongous wings. He should be worried, he knew where they were headed. Baekhyun it seemed had no sense of self preservation when it came to Chanyeol. At this moment he didn't think he even wanted it either. That was the part that scared him the most.

 

“I can almost hear a monologue running through your head Baekhyunnie, just give me 10 more minutes, we will talk about it as soon as we get home. Baekhyun almost pointed out that they were going in the wrong direction when the word home hit him with all the force of a sledgehammer.

 

“Home? The Park residence? Where your family lived? ” he had stammered, causing Chanyeol to laugh out loud again. “Well, it is a Park residence since I, a Park live there but it's not the Park Residence, if that's got you worried. We, the kids, don't live at home and our parents understand. I'm sure you will meet mine someday Baekhyunnie, but we need to talk to each other first, don't you think?”

 

Baekhyun had stared, unsure. He wasn't sure what he had expected to hear but it hadn't been such a casual acceptance of their future or even meeting his parents. He was surely pushing his luck or even misunderstanding the conversation because Baekhyun had come to accept that there would never be a normal relationship for him where he would acknowledged as someone's partner openly. Not by casual acquaintances. Definitely not by family. But he had to ask. Maybe an inherent streak of masochism in him made him ask.

 

“Meet your family Chanyeol?” he had whispered. Chanyeol, who had his eyes on the road, had distractedly said, “Isn't that the next step? Meet the parents? We have a lot of things to figure out between the two of us but I can assure you my mother is excited about meeting you, as are my siblings. My father probably is too but he isn't the most emotive person so even when he is excited, he looks like he had been presented with a week's worth of old laundry,” and then he had smiled, knowing that there was only one turn left to his apartment. He had turned to say something to Baekhyun when he saw the smaller man’s eyes had flooded, tears making fast trails over his cheeks.

 

“No. No. You don't get to cry now. I need to do this right Baekhyun. Just stop. Five minutes okay? It'll be just fine minutes and it will be like being back in Barcelona again” he had panicked. Baekhyun had shook his head, overwhelmed but Chanyeol hadn't understood. He had pulled up in front of the small duplex, not bothering to park the car properly. He had gone around the side, undone Baekhyun’s seat belt and held the smaller man against him. “I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I, Baekhyunnie? I brought you here to show you my home, which I hope will be our home. I won't still live here full time but I will come back to Seoul and to you once my assignments finish. Just as long as you don't make me live in the city. I want…” Baekhyun figured they had both needed to talk and they would. But know there were more important things.

 

Baekhyun shook his head again, cupping Chanyeol’s face. He could feel the beginning of stubbles prickling his palm, thrilling his skin. Baekhyun didn't want to think. He had Chanyeol with him now. The rest of the world would sort itself out. Later. He had fitted his mouth against his. Firm. Ripe. Nipping at the plush lips against his and Chanyeol had gasped, his mouth had opened, giving Baekhyun access to a flavor he thought he would never have again. He sucked on the pouty bottom heavy lips under his own, feeling Chanyeol almost curve into him, under the onslaught of feelings. He could feel being lifted, automatically wrapping his legs around Chanyeol’s waist, impressed at how the taller man hadn't broken contact with his lips during the whole transition. When Chanyeol started pulling at his shirt, tucked in under his belt, Baekhyun helped, craving the large warm hands on his skin. He yanked at his belt, dropping it somewhere around the front lawn, untucking his shirt, feeling as Chanyeol’s hands feathered under his shirt, then abruptly pinning him to himself using his hands, as he strode forward. Somewhere. Anywhere. Baekhyun didn't care. He just wanted Chanyeol. He just wanted more. He kept rubbing against Chanyeol’s thigh, anchoring him to himself by pinning him by his ankles against the taller man’s butt. His hands were at his waist, pulling up Chanyeol’s shirt, aching to feel his skin. He felt himself move. Felt, as he banged against a wall as Chanyeol pinned him against one against, this time mouthing his neck, nibbling where it it met his right shoulder. Baekhyun could only arch and rub against him mindlessly. If the older man hadn't been holding him, he would have bonelessly slipped on the floor.

 

He yanked at Chanyeol’s shirt again, absurdly pleased when the buttons went flying everywhere. The belt at his waist was thin with a discreet buckle. Baekhyun felt like an engineer, trying to undo it sight less, eyes drifted shut as Chanyeol latched onto his neck again, while carrying him up the stairs. He had bumped into a few things along the way and would bruise like a peach tomorrow. Somehow Baekhyun didn't have it in him to care enough.

 

He had just dropped the belt, somewhere when he had the impression of a big room. Chanyeol had blindly turned on the lights and then dumped him on the bed so he bounced. Once. Then, he forgot everything. As Chanyeol shrugged out of his ruined shirt, he took into stock the dips and hollows of his body. He had always reminded Baekhyun of a runner. Narrow hipped and beautifully sculpted. As he unselfconsciously dropped the pants, before stepping out of his boxers, Baekhyun’s breath hitched. He was so hard and an angry red. Yet, he didn't look like be in a hurry. Patiently getting down to come towards Baekhyun, to help him shrug off his own shirt. To draw his pants and his underwear off his hips before throwing it on the floor somewhere. He then leaned back, knees spread to survey what was laid before him.

 

“you're so beautiful Baekhyunnie,” he had sounded awed. “I can't think of anything more beautiful in my life,” he had whispered. “may I?” with his breath hitching, he had nodded, hissing out through his teeth when he felt Chanyeol cradle him in his big hands. Stroking the underside, running his thumb over the slit. He had leaned over to run his tongue on the slit causing Baekhyun to bend, backwards. He didn't know if he would have a spine after this. He couldn't find it in him to care.

 

“So pretty my Baekhyunnie,” he had murmured, as more of his mouth had engulfed Baekhyun, until he he saw stars behind his clenched lids.

 

“I would rather have you in me Chanyeol,” he had begged. “it has been so long,” he had pulled the taller man up to kiss him, watching as his eyes had flared, and a wolfish smile had settled on his lips. “Always so impatient, my Baekhyunnie,” he had crooned in that low voice he seemed to only use when they were together like this as he flipped him over, facedown on the pillow. Baekhyun heard a drawer slam and then a cool gel being squirted on him, causing him to shudder. When he felt a long finger enter him, he had shuddered some more, moaning hoarsely, he had pushed back. “Ssh, Baekhyunnie, I don't want to hurt you, it's been so long for me,” he had pushed a second finger in, and then, when Baekhyun thought he wouldn't be able to breathe, a third one caused his eyes to roll back. “please Chanyeol. Please, I can't anymore. Please, please, please,” he would have kept chanting if Chanyeol hadn't silenced him with a kiss. He heard the crinkle of foil then, Chanyeol had fitted his teeth at the juncture of his neck and had then gently pushed himself in, a testament to his gentleness since Baekhyun himself was feeling wild. Then, he had blanked out. All primal feelings. Chanyeol had cupped him with his lubed fingers, rubbing, stroking as the pace got faster; rougher. He had sucked on his neck while the Baekhyun had gasped, cried, choking on half formed words. He had darkly whispered in his ears as his strokes intensified, mirroring the one inside Baekhyun - wrecking him, stretching him. Everything felt new. Like the first time. Maybe it was, in a way. Then, his world had exploded. He dimly felt Chanyeol moving faster until the taller man had collapsed on him, groaning.

 

He stirred. Later. Maybe a century had passed. Or minutes. Baekhyun wasn't really in the mindset to keep track of time after that. But he was sticky and Chanyeol was pinning him down.

 

“Chanyeol,” he had whispered, hoarsely. “move, I need to clean up”. He had heard the older grumble as he withdrew himself then get up and dispose the condom. He had come back grinning maniacally. “what?” Baekhyun had been a little taken aback by the grin. He had been presented with, “bubble tissue,” the maniac had grinned some more. “that way you don't have to get off the bed,” when Baekhyun had stared, he himself had taken a bunch out, gently cleaning Baekhyun and then himself, before tossing soiled tissues into the basket.

 

“score!” he had crowed, sleepily, tucking Baekhyun back into the crook of his arm. “I like the blue,” Chanyeol had murmured, half asleep.  “pink was hope but blue is like promise,” before Baekhyun could ask what he was talking about, he had settled his lips on his nape and promptly drifted off. Baekhyun knew there was a lot to talk about. They had a lot to discuss but right now, in his arms, all he wanted was sleep too. He snuggled in. There was tomorrow.

 

_It's our paradise and it's our war zone_

  
A/N: the chapter is inspired by Zayn Malik’s pillowtalk, which is sexy af. It's my first sex scene with these two so if it had seemed awkward, I apologize.


	10. Under the Bridge

 

Part 10: Under the Bridge

 

Junmyeon knew there was a lot he had to do today. There were phone calls that had gone unanswered, documents he should be looking at, but honestly his mind was still on the last conversation he had with his brother. Chanyeol hadn’t called since. It still stung, having been idolized by his younger brother since he could understand. It was a necessary conversation, perhaps but it was still a conversation that had him in this daze. He picked up the tiny bronze Lebanese hookah Chanyeol had picked up for him when he had gone to Beirut for the first time. He could still remember the wide eyed boy, who had gone off to see the world after finishing his conscription. Chanyeol had come back, inspired, with a camera full of photographs. One of which had somehow ended up on National Geographic. Then requests for more had come, and New York Times had beckoned. The boy had his call to adventure, and gone off to his hero’s journey. But before that, Junmyeon had done something very cruel. Chanyeol had been very young and he hadn’t thought he knew his mind. They had never addressed the issue. But, it had perhaps been one of the reasons his brother never came home again. 

 

It had all started with Chanyeol coming to see him at the Park Enterprises. Junmyeon had been shocked. Chanyeol never came to the office, if he could help it. He would rather meet at their parents’ residence, at Junmyeon’s apartment in Gangnam, which he mercilessly teased his older brother about. When Junmyeon pointed out that living at Gangnam had been one of Chanyeol’s dreams too, he waved that aside, laughing, “In some other lifetime, maybe, hyung” - Chanyeol was easy to be with. He hadn’t been fond of going out to the clubs at Gangnam or the any of the restaurants at the fashionable district, until the food was worth it. He would go to small cafes, art exhibitions or Yoora’s and the siblings would talk together, reminiscing. Well they would talk, and Chanyeol would tell them what he thought they wanted to hear. He didn’t want to be at the night clubs or the michelin starred restaurant. Chanyeol sought life and usually found it in unusual places. This was however the first time he had made a trip to Yeouinaru, and Junmyeon had been curious as to why. Was he leaving again? Usually those notices came through sudden phone calls, as Chanyeol hated goodbyes but who knew with him? Certainly not Junmyeon. He had put all his work on hold, to see what his baby brother had wanted. 

 

“Are you here for your office after all? We can get you a nice big one, with glass walls,” he had half joked, stirring sugar in his coffee. It had been a late night and he needed all the caffeine he could get. Chanyeol had shook his head, eyes sparkling, laughing. “You keep the office hyung. It isn’t my natural milieu anyway,” he had laughed once more. “I’m not going back to Barcelona,” he had suddenly said, causing Junmyeon to sputter out his coffee. Before he could talk however, Chanyeol had raised his hand, “That doesn’t mean I won’t be taking my assignments Hyung. I still will. I’ll just stay here for the time I am off, that’s all,” Junmyeon had smiled. “Are congratulations in order Chanyeol-ah? Dr. Bae Joohyun?” Chanyeol had laughed, and laughed until he was in tears. “Joohyun has a chaebol in mind, I feel, but, fortunately it isn’t me, had I been one, and unfortunately it isn’t you either hyung” he had wheezed and Joonmyun had stared, flabbergasted. “He is a man actually, and I would really like you to meet him,” and Junmyeon had frozen, his past coming back to haunt him. He had stared at his brother, eyes narrowed and something caused words to barrel out of his mouth. Words he hadn’t meant to say. “How well do you know him? How do you know he isn’t in it for the money Chanyeol-ah? Think about if this leaks. Think about father. You never think, for Lord’s sake. I need to look into this. Don’t take any decisions until I am done looking Chanyeol,” he had been in the process of picking up his phone and calling the private detective they used to do background checks on high level employee when Chanyeol had taken his phone from his hand, and gently lowered it on the glass top table. The gentleness of his action hiding none of the anger that was on his face now. “It is not like you didn’t know I was bisexual hyung,” he had bit out. “I hadn’t tried hiding it since I was 20,” and Junmyeon had spluttered again. “I know that Chanyeol-ah. I am not trying to…” he sighed and tried again. “You don’t understand Chanyeol. There are a lot of people who would use you for money, and this young man might too. What does he do? How did you meet him? You tend to hang out in all these seedy areas. Don’t you understand I am trying to look out for you?” and suddenly Chanyeol had stood up. The suddenness of his actions caused the chair to careen to the back, where it spun listlessly. For the first time, Junmyeon noticed the disparity between their heights. Chanyeol didn’t yell. His tone was was quiet. For a moment, Junmyeon wished he was the same Chanyeol who used to yell when he was angry or frustrated. This one seemed very alien right now. “Why hyung? So you can call him and give him money to break my heart and leave?” and he had frozen. “I knew hyung,” he had smiled sardonically. “I just never held it against you, that’s all. Yifan had called me to tell what you had done and I had laughed at the theatrics of it all. Then, I had asked him to take the money. He is a lawyer now, so thank you for that, I suppose” - Junmyeon had kept staring, deer in headlight. “You could have asked then hyung, and I would have told you that we were just two people easing each other’s loneliness. But you wanted to be high handed - the all knowing saviour. I was amused enough to let you,” he had leaned towards Junmyeon, all repressed aggression and height. “I am not going to this time, hyung,” he had straightened, still as serene as ever. “I am not going to say anything to you anymore hyung. But, if you can get past your snobbery, I am moving in at the empty duplex at Hapjeong-dong with my partner. Maybe if you can leave the chaebol at home, and come as my brother, I’d be happy to introduce you to him,” he had made a motion to leave. “Chanyeol-ah,” he had croaked. “Think about our parents - your father, Chanyeol!” His brother had thrown back his head and laughed, none of the joy that radiated from him when he had walked in, present in the sound. “If you knew as much as you thought you did hyung, you would know by know I don’t hide from anyone. I had told appa, eomma and Yoora noona years ago,” he had shook his head. “They knew. I had spoken to appa about this last night, with Yoora and eomma. You had a dinner, so you couldn’t make it,” now that Junmyeon had thought about it, his mother had left a voicemail, wanting to give him a good news. He had been too busy to return her call, reasoning he would see her tonight anyway. “He suggested the duplex at Hapjeong-dong since I am not especially fond of living in the bustle of the city. I guess it was more important to them that I lived at home, than who I lived with,” and his brother had walked out, the quietly closed door behind him just as effective as the door being slammed would have been. Junmyeon had hid his face in his hands and stifled things churning in him, things he hadn’t been able to say, himself. 

 

_ Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner _ __  
_ Sometimes I feel like my only friend _ _  
_ __ Is the city I live in, the city of angels

  
  
  


“People are looking Joohyun-ssi,” Kyungsoo had intoned quietly, but she had heard the thread of amusement underlying the sentence. She had shrugged carelessly, “People always look Kyungsoo-ssi. It’s on us, what we choose to make of them looking,” she smiled at him, and watched as the smile reflected back in his eyes, even as his lips remained frustratingly still. She tightened the hand on his arm, and shot a look at Soo-Mi, who was looking at them, still like a snake waiting to strike. The smile Joohyun shot her was so taunting, knowing Soo-Mi’s temper, it is amazing that she didn’t lunge at Joohyun, trying to scratch her eyes out. Maybe, like Kyungsoo she too had gotten more patient with age, for differing reasons. He stifled a smile, as Soo-Mi shot another narrow eyed look at them. “Careful Joohyun-ssi, your courting a powerful enemy,” she had shrugged again. “I feel my friend is more powerful,” she grinned again. “Unless you want me to leave you in the tender mercies of your hyeongsu-nim,” she had made to move her arm off the crook of his arm. He had looked at Soo-Mi, and then at the girl, next to him laughing at them all. He then secured her hand on his arm. “Powerful friends, remember?” her laughter pealed, making his parents smile at them indulgently. Kyungsoo knew he should be worried, at what it all meant to other people. What his parents thought of this. He tried to make as less mistakes as possible these days. But, with Bae Joohyun he was too amused and fascinated to care. 

 

If you asked him two days ago, when his best friend had abandoned him to go off with his photographer  (not that Kyungsoo begrudged him a moment of joy), he had been left with a beautiful woman holding his arms, Soo-Mi trying to corner him for god knows what and a room full of potential guests. Bae Joohyun had shrugged, pointing out that one can't stand in the way of the deluge that was love and had walked around the room, bullshitting with the best of them. She had this innate ability to warm people up, with her smile. Something he used to think only Baekhyun had. She would show up, on intervals to hold his arm and smile at Soo-Mi, each seemed to be armed with more taunt than the last one. Kyungsoo hadn't known if he should laugh or hide, having figured out out as a child, not to get between to females. At end of the evening, he had been told by clients - many of them his parents’ friends, his  _ friend _ was utterly charming. Kyungsoo had smiled, unsure of what else to do. Very rarely did things spin out of his control. Right now though, it had spun, cartwheeled then taken a leap off a large mountain somewhere to an endless free fall. She had charmed his hyung too, who took it as an opportunity to talk about his cars, the private jet, the vacation homes, the vacations and his wealth. He had seen Bae Joohyun nod along, a secret laughter sparkling in her eyes. She had found his hyung absurd. Although he hadn't expected to say it outright to him, when she had finessed him into going to a subway at 2 am in the morning, “subway?” he had asked again, to be sure. She had just laughed, nodding, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. So they had gone. 

 

“your brother is a fool,” she had declared, biting into her sandwich. Kyungsoo felt he should have some fraternal loyalty but being the sort of person he was, it was hard to deny facts. “yes,” she had smiled widely and gone back to eating happily, in a world of her own. Joohyun had come to his rescue when Soo-Mi had decided a room full of strangers was the right place to declare her love for her brother in law, standing not even 5 feet away from her husband. He didn't know if there was much to hide from the woman after that. His brother had invited her to a dinner his parents were hosting and Joohyun had happily accepted. His hyung was probably burning up phone lines now letting everyone know about the girl with Kyungsoo. He really didn't know if he should laugh or cry. Fully prepared to make apologies for her, and put this evening behind as an odd, fantastical one off, he dropped her off at her apartment twenty minutes away. She had twinkled at him again and said, “what time are you picking me up, day after tomorrow Kyungsoo-ssi?” and he had been thrown a curveball again. “Why do you want to go Joohyun-ssi?” he had countered, maybe a little out of self preservation from this mad woman. She had thrown back her curtain of black hair and laughed. “Someone has to save you Kyungsoo-ssi, why not me?” and he had stared at her. “What do you want in return?” she had smiled again and said, “Now that Chanyeol and Baekhyun-ssi had made up, I have nobody to watch Community with. You need to watch it with me and translate some of the things,” he stared again at the mad woman before him. “the American show? That Community?” she had nodded vigorously. “Yes. I don't understand some of the things and I heard you speak English today,” Kyungsoo had laughed, despite himself and a deal had been struck. 

 

Watching her fidget, mournfully staring at the buffet table like they were long separated lovers was a... novel experience - she looked at the food laden table and sighed, then looked ato his hand sighed again, burdened by her promise to protect him. He figured she was hungry and led her to the buffet table. “Bae Joohyun, the way you eat, one would imagine you were being starved in a tower somewhere,” she had shrugged cheerfully. “I didn't get a chance to eat at the practice today. Too many patients,” he had shook his head and made her a plate, while she had made a particularly rude, cheerful observation about a chaebol’s wife and her nose. “not everyone is born with a pert nose Bae Joohyun,” he had admonished, unable to keep the laughter off his voice. The particular lady’s face changed with the seasons. His father often had his mother point her out in the crowd in the fear he wouldn't recognize her. The pert nose in question had wrinkled as she smiled, “that's true Kyungsoo-ssi,” and he had laughed. No false modesty here. He looked up to see his mother stare at him in fascination, the same say she had when he had introduced her to them as his friend. He didn't know what that was about and he wasn't going to try decipher the complexities in his life today. Handing her the plate, he secured the hand on his arm again, “eat up and eat one handed Bae Joohyun. If you want to know what Troy tells Abed, you better not abandon me to the sharks,” she had wrinkled her nose up at him and gone back to eating, snuggled up to his side. Kyungsoo hadn't been able to enjoy a family program like this in some time - all thanks to a particularly crazy doctor who thought he needed saving. He smiled, watching her eat. He couldn't wait to watch Community, himself.  

_ I drive on her streets _ __  
_ 'Cause she's my companion _ __  
_ I walk through her hills _ _  
_ __ 'Cause she knows who I am

 

_ A/N: the chapter is inspired by Red Hot Chilli Peppers' song Under the Bridge. Hyeongsu-nim is a man's older brother's wife  _

 


	11. Bae Bae

Part 11: Bae Bae

 

Baekhyun had woken up to find that it was still early. 6 am wasn’t a time when Chanyeol would be alive to this world, and turning around to see his lover sleeping with mouth open, he smiled. Yeah, no, he wouldn’t like being woken up either. He had to be at work around 11, plenty of time since they were in a remote area - Baekhyun had tried catching buses a few times but Chanyeol liked dropping him off, before going to visit Joohyun at her clinic or, just walk around to take photographs on the streets of Gangnam. He stretched, walking up to Chanyeol’s closet, he grabbed a white t-shirt, and walked to the kitchen. His clothing situation was a thing they needed to address. Most of his things were still back at his apartment with Kyungsoo. He hadn’t broached the subject of moving out yet, although, he didn’t think it would come across as a surprise to his friend. If it was any other time, Baekhyun would have had third, fourth and even fifth thoughts about moving out. Now though, Kyungsoo looked almost… happy. It seemed like the right time. Chanyeol had to go meet his father about something, so he had gone home for the evening last night, to hang out with Kyungsoo, except, it seemed Do Kyungsoo, who was famously a hermit, had plans. He had made mandu, eomukguk and ssuk-beomul - packing some for Chanyeol and him to eat, he had been more or less shooed out, as he was out on his way, to watch Community with Bae Joohyun, food in tow. “She forgets to eat,” had been his laconic answer. Community! What was this Community? Even Chanyeol loved this stupid show. After he was done pouting that his friend had a life now, and became happy about it, he had called Kyungsoo, and asked him if he was dating Bae Joohyun, and Kyungsoo, to Baekhyun’s greatest surprise had scoffed, “She is not right in the head Baekhyun-ah,” he had said, like that explained everything. But Baekhyun, who knew his every tone, better than Kyungsoo can imagine had heard something new, and had heard the smile in his friend’s voice. He had grinned, and invited Chanyeol and himself to the next screening of the stupid show - they’d get a dinner and show out of it. Just not the kind Kyungsoo thought, that’s all. Okay, he amended, smiling, he would get a different show from the one on tv, since the rest would be drooling over Community. He twisted his lips. Pfft. Community.

 

He had later grilled Chanyeol about Bae Joohyun, who had grinned wide, face full of mandu, “Ah, don’t get in between that Baekhyunnie,” he had swallowed. “Everyone has a story and Bae Joohyun and Kyungsoo-ssi are just starting their own,” Baekhyun had poked at the dimple on Chanyeol’s cheek and asked, “would she...hurt him?” Joohyun was a good friend of Chanyeol. You could hear the affection in Chanyeol’s voice when he spoke of her. Baekhyun wasn’t jealous, but he was worried about his friend. Kyungsoo didn’t need another heartbreak. Chanyeol had shook his head, stuffing his face with slightly cold eomukguk, “I don’t think so. Joohyun doesn’t really operate like that. She’s kind, but she is also a little strange, does that make sense?” he shook his head, chewing, “ I have been trying to marry her off to Joonmyeon for a while. Orchestrating all kinds of situations where they would be together but she had largely ignored his existence, but she she sees Kyungsoo and suddenly, she took notice. From what you have told me, he took notice of her too, so however it works out for them, it can’t be bad, right?” he had smiled, a little strained. Baekhyun knew it was because Junmeyon’s name had come up. He didn’t know what had happened between the brothers but he could wager a guess or two. Yoora had come by to tell Chanyeol that the house needed redecoration. Chanyeol had been terrified and had thrust his boyfriend in his Noona’s direction. Anything to escape redecorating. Baekhyun found himself sorting through furniture catalogues, paint swatches and fabrics, when he wasn’t working at Baekje, with Yoora, whose life’s goal was to make their home civilized - even if they chose to live in the middle of nowhere (not true, but it wasn’t Yoora’s Gangnam, so Baekhyun could see where she was sort of coming from). Chanyeol’s mother drops by - not to frequently, she had pointed out, “nobody wants nosy in laws,” and had laughed heartily. Baekhyun’s heart had melted, and he had figured out where Chanyeol got his booming laugh from. Chanyeol’s father too came by once a while. He brings food, pointing out he would rather spend time with the boys then have one of the two rush about making dinner. “Chanyeol cooks terrible traditional food,” he had whispered once, when he noticed his son wasn’t looking. Baekhyun who had tasted Chanyeol’s korean cooking, had agreed, laughingly. Instead they eat outside, with soju. Chanyeol’s father can’t hold his drink very well. Often Chanyeol rolls his eyes affectionately, as he escorts his father to the car, where the driver waits to take the esteemed Mr. Park home. It’s been three weeks. Junmyeon hadn’t called or come. Baekhyun had seen the sadness in Chanyeol’s eyes when he thought Baekhyun wasn’t looking. He couldn’t help blaming himself for this too. 

 

He turned on the radio, shaking away the blues. They were happy. They needed to find ways to stay happy. it was early enough that he could make some korean style breakfast. Chanyeol, who liked eating more than cooking would appreciate the gesture, even if the food didn’t quite measure up to Kyungsoo’s (That’s why they had the Community date with Kyungsoo and Bae Joohyun tonight). He unearthed the rice cooker, some groceries they had picked up yesterday afternoon and got to work. When Bae Bae came on, Baekhyun was dancing. He spied Chanyeol’s wayfarers on the kitchen counter and put it on, as the song demanded. That’s how Chanyeol had found him, stirring doenjang tofu soup, wearing his white t-shirt, that hung below his knees, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, dancing to Big Bang’s Bae Bae. He just stood there and stared, taking the sight in, like a breath of fresh air for his parched lungs. The situation with Junmyeon was wearing on him. His hyung and him had never fought in their lives together. Yoona had always fought with him, while Junmyeon was the peacekeeper. Junmyeon was the one who had kept track of him, while he traipsed around the world - never missing a birthday or Chuseok. He had found ways for his brother to get gifts that had never seemed quite legal to Chanyeol - He even remembered this one time, when this burly man had been waiting for him with a box of fresh chapssaltteok - How Junmyeon had swung that, nobody knows but he had. Yet, here, with him home, they weren’t talking. Chanyeol had to leave for Congo soon, to document the aftermath of the Pool War. Just after the photography exhibition, in fact. Baekhyun and he had been talking about it, in bits and pieces. He knew Baekhyun was scared, but it was also what Chanyeol did and he had been lucky to find a partner who understood. It just hurt that his brother hadn’t quite seen it the same way. He sighed, shaking his head, and reached for Baekhyun, and held him. “No pants on with a white shirt babe?” he had intoned, laughing. Baekhyun had tossed his hair back, “of course, is there any other way?” “Is that why you have sunglasses on, too?” He had asked, holding the smaller man by his waist. Baekhyun had smiled. A slower song had come on, and Chanyeol had danced, quietly holding Baekhyun against him, the world, and breakfast forgotten for a little while. 

  
  
  


“Do you get the feeling that Dean Pelton might be in love with Jeff, Kyungsoo-ssi?” Joohyun had actually asked that question. Kyungsoo stared at her, unable to formulate a sentence. “What part of the past two seasons gave that away Bae Joohyun?” Chanyeol asked dryly, getting smacked for his trouble by Baekhyun. “but don’t you think he loves Jeff?” she persisted. “Ya Joohyun-ah. Of course he does. Look at the rules he bends and breaks for Jeff. What dean does that? Did the dean at your medical school do it?” Chanyeol said, while Kyungsoo remained quiet, even though there was a smile on his lips. “So, does that mean love makes you break rules Chanyeol-ssi?” Chanyeol paused the show and sighed, as he appeared to give it some thought. “It is more that you want to be the best version of yourself for them. You step out of your comfort zone, to make them happy. To show them how you feel, I suppose?” he pulled Baekhyun closer to him, and smiled. 

 

“So... you wear a pineapple on your head for love?” Joohyun looked on, genuinely perplexed. Chanyeol sighed and opened his mouth again, and snapped it shut, watching his usually quiet host open his mouth. Kyungsoo just shook his head and smiled, as he got up to fix dinner. One of the fascinating things about Joohyun was, she was smart - so smart but, then when it came to intimate, interpersonal relationships, she had very little understanding of how those operated. It isn’t to say she hasn’t had relationships - but he didn’t think Joohyun had ever really loved a person so it wouldn’t really make much sense to her. “When you meet a person you would wear a pineapple on your head for Bae Joohyun, let me know,” he had smiled. Baekhyun had stared at the smile, surprised, since it wasn’t like Kyungsoo to smile very often. Joohyun, with her perfect lack of filter just pointed out, “Of course. Did you know your lips are shaped like a heart when you smile Kyungsoo-ssi? You should do it more often” Kyungsoo had just shaken his head and asked everyone to grab from the table so they can eat in front of the television. When he had made a plate for Joohyun and one for himself, Baekhyun’s brows had risen but before he could say anything tactless, Chanyeol had poked at his side to shut him up. “Their story, remember? Here eat this,” he fed him a bite of perilla leaf and barbecued meat ssam. Baekhyun had chewed, pouting. He wasn't going to say… much. 

 

“Who does Pierce like?” Chanyeol had sighed. Baekhyun had felt it against his back, but he could also feel his lover grinning. “Bae Joohyun, do you breathe by talking?”. “Of course not, so who does Pierce like?” and Chanyeol was surprised again to see the taciturn Kyungsoo talk, “He doesn't like anyone, except maybe Annie,” he had leaned against the sofa to watch the show. “But…” she had interrupted again, to be gently fed a perilla leaf and sea cucumber ssam. “Eat and don't interrupt Hyun-ah,” he had gently admonished. To Chanyeol’s greatest fascination, she had kept quiet and kept chewing. From what he had come to know about Joohyun in the last few months, she never stopped yet a gently worded rebuke had gotten her to quieten down. Baekhyun was staring at his friend. Kyungsoo never called anyone by pet names. Not Baekhyun. Not Soo-Mi when they had been together for the brief period saw them as a couple. He just didn't do these things yet, Hyun-ah had slipped out so easily. This was getting as fascinating as he had thought it would. Maybe he would take his boyfriend's advise and play the silent spectator for once. Mainly because he didn't want to scare Kyungsoo off. He didn't think Kyungsoo was aware of what was happening here. Baekhyun had leaned against Chanyeol, and asked the question that was bugging him, “So is Britta going to be Jeff’s girlfriend?” he had seen Joohyun flash him a wide grin, as both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol groaned. It was a good evening. 

  
  
A/N: This chapter is inspired by Big Bang’s Bae Bae. I love that song :hearteyes: yes. I'm also a Community fan! Why'd it have to end? If you have a moment, let me know what you think of the story so far. I'd love to hear your thoughts. 


	12. Lucky

Part 12: Lucky

 

He had been on his phone, booking a flight to Kinshasa International Airport in The Democratic Republic of Congo for the next week. He had to leave just after the exhibition. It wasn’t ideal. Not with what he had planned but that was his life. Baekhyun understood, laughing through damp eyes, but it hurt them - this separation. Maybe he would choose a less dangerous assignment for the next time, so Baekhyun would come too. His assignments these days weren’t long - a couple of weeks here, a few weeks there, and then, long periods of break in between. Chanyeol had come to that point where he could pick and choose. He’d choose one in the Mediterranean belt, the next time. They would have the sun, the beaches, the food. They would walk for hours, in roads that went nowhere. They would shop, and find places to eat. They would immerse themselves into the history of the mediterranean coasts, the arts and the music - Maybe Baekhyun could make it a working holiday and find arts to send back for Kyungsoo. Hell they would figure it out once it was time to cross that particular bridge. He could work on photograph emerging subcultures in the Mediterranean, and Baekhyun would just be there - see the world, some more. Dance under the moon again. He would be there so Chanyeol would never be without him again, when he could help it. Still on the phone, talking to his agent, he looked to see the man on his mind, laying their bed, head rested on one arm, looking at him as he spoke, hurriedly. His hair, shades of blue, lay flat against his arm, and his eyes were wide, following Chanyeol’s every movement. Chanyeol smiled as he wound down his conversation with his agent, and said his goodbyes.

 

“What?” he had asked, smiling at the smaller man sprawled on their bed. Their bed. Was it odd to say he had never felt that level of belonging before? Not in Seoul. Not in Barcelona. Chanyeol always felt slightly detached, and when he had come back from Kabul the first time, his existence had felt transient, no matter where he had lived. Yet here they were, with their house, their kitchen, their bed - all because of the blue haired man who had become his home.  Baekhyun had smiled, and shook his head. Chanyeol had seen the smile gleaming in his head and asked again, “What Baekhyun?” as he had pushed the smaller man to side so he could slide in. “Nothing.. I was just thinking how lucky we are, talking the same language, here, in the same country. How lucky we were to have run into each other on the streets of Barcelona, when you could have easily missed me,” he shook his head again, as if banishing the thought from his head. “It was such a chance Chanyeol, what if…?” He couldn’t finish the sentence as Chanyeol had pulled him towards himself and cuddled the younger man. “I can’t think of one reason why I wouldn’t have seen you Baekhyyunnie. The first thing I saw in that writing mass of bodies was a flash of pink mop, topping a face that reminded me of an angel. A very irritated angel, true, but an angel nonetheless,” he tweaked the nose nudging against his cheek. “Hah! You try getting groped and tell me if you you like it,” came the reply. Chanyeol hadn’t answered, pulling him into his arms instead. The blue swatches were over his eyes, in feathery fringes. Chanyeol had reached blindly over to the bedside table to grab one of his trusty paper clips to pin the swatch back to his forehead. He could see those honey eyes again, glowing at him. They were bathed in the late morning sunlight, and Chanyeol could hear the river outside singing, he pulled the covers over them. For that moment, they were just two.

 

“So you still haven't shown Kyungsoo-ssi or Baekhyun-ssi your piėce dè rėsistance?” Joohyun had asked while he played with the skeleton in her clinic. “No Bae Joohyun and if you want to remain invited to my exhibition, you wouldn't either,” he replied, putting his cap on the skull at a rakish angle. “Please. I know the owner and rich and famous people now,” she had replied, tongue-in-cheek,  “I'd be invited,” and Chanyeol’s nose had wrinkled playfully, “You knew me Bae Joohyun and I'm world famous, I'll have you know.” she had waved him off, munching on the kitkats that were perpetually found in the bar fridge in her little clinic. “I have a nice dress for tonight,” she had declared, mouth filled with kitkat. “I am going to look like she goddess and everyone will just stare at me and not your photographs,” she had twinkled. “Going to seduce Do Kyungsoo tonight Joohyun?” he had laughed at the chocolate on her teeth. Those eyes had dimmed all of a sudden. She had nodded no. “He doesn't think of me like that Chanyeol. I'm too strange for him. I say weird things. I don't understand certain social cues. Not what a man in his position needs. Kyungsoo-ssi just finds me funny,” she had smiled weakly. She hasn't lied. Yet this was the first time Chanyeol had seen Joohyun like this. Someone so larger than life should not be vulnerable but who was Chanyeol to say anything? This thing between them worked because neither of them ever lied to another. Not even little white ones. That's why they were friends. He had taken a moment to consider, before placing his hand on her shoulder, “it's his loss Bae Joohyun if he doesn't see you,” she had smiled again. “We have a deal. I am his protector,” what a man like Do Kyungsoo, who by all records was known to be as cold and as ruthless as they came needed a protector such as Bae Joohyun Chanyeol didn't know. He didn't exactly disapprove but neither did the niggle of worry leave him. Had Joonmyun and he were in talking terms, he would have his Hyung to look into it. They weren't but that was his Hyung’s choice. Chanyeol could now only be there for her. “Joohyun-ah. I know I'm leaving for a while, but if you need anything, Baekhyun is there. Please don't hesitate to ask okay?” he continued making the skeleton wear his jacket, while she had waved him away but Chanyeol made a note of it - he would remind Baekhyun to look after her a little when he was gone. She was his friend after all.

 

How Chanyeol had managed to get the photograph in without him looking, Baekhyun would never know. He definitely had outside help - namely Kyungsoo who had suddenly decided he had needed to mingle with the guests. Gidae was a success. The kind that sold out every single pieces put out. Except for the one Chanyeol said he wouldn't sell. The photograph also named Gidae. It was of the night at Sitges with the full moon forming a magical halo on the streets. The carabana girls were dancing in all their glory and in the middle was a delicate profile flushed peach. The moonlight captured a million shades of pink of the hair, imbued with magic. There were tiny beads of dew sparkling at the crown of his hair, as if it nestled in itself some secret beyond human understanding. The head itself was thrown back in abandonment, as he danced, hands over his head. It's the magic of Chanyeol’s camera that somehow among the brilliantly colored, plumed women, somehow only the young man dressed in a plain white t-shirt stood out. Radiating a quiet joy in the midst of a carnivale. Hope. Baekhyun’s throat had seized up. Not many would recognize the pink haired magical creature Chanyeol had seen through his lens as Baekhyun but those who knew him wouldn't mistake it for anyone else. Chanyeol might not have said the words but he had given him the biggest love declaration of all time - an exhibition dedicated to him. Chanyeol’s mother had taken one look and her eyes had watered. His father had cleared his throat several times before he declared his intention of buying it which started an impromptu bidding war among the guests. Yoora too needed to have it. All the while Chanyeol had stood there quietly, laughing, at Baekhyun’s side and when things had quieted down a little, he had shook his head and said, he didn't plan on selling hope. His father had understood, reaching out to squeeze his son's hand before bringing Baekhyun close to him too. He had declared that Chanyeol’s mother needed a photograph of them all. Having seen all the photographs in his study, in his wallet when he had opened to show Baekhyun a baby picture of Chanyeol when his dimple had first appeared and millions of out of focus photos in his phones, Baekhyun didn't think that Chanyeol’s mother was the one who wanted a picture but nobody ever called him out on it. Chanyeol grinned as reached for Baekhyun to stand at his side as the Parks quickly surrounded them. The hapless curator was tasked with taking a photograph of the Parks, with Baekhyun in front of Gidae. Everyone grinning. Two of them painfully aware that Junmyeon wasn't there. That he hadn't wanted to be, despite Baekhyun going behind Chanyeol’s back to send his brother an invite. After promising to send his parents copies of the photo and of one that was similar to Gidae, “no you can't have this one. It will have only one copy, Eomma,” he had wandered off to talk to the guests. “Junmyeon had really wanted to be here,” Chanyeol’s father had declared, but there was work. He works so hard,” he shook his head. “But today, he stayed so I could come,” Baekhyun had smiled weakly, not sure how much they knew. If they knew anything at all. “So Chanyeol leaves tonight,” he noted. Baekhyun had quietly nodded, still overwhelmed. “Ah at least you brought the boy home. That's more than what all of us could do in the past seven years Baekhyun,” he shook his head wryly. Shrugging at the photograph behind them,“Maybe you would get him to stay Baekhyun-ah?” he had shook his head, still overwhelmed by what Chanyeol had shown him. “Not if he is not happy,” Chanyeol’s father had looked at him shrewdly, laughed and patted him on the back. “My sons are both good men Baekhyun-ah. Just a lot of ego. I think they get it from their mother,” he had laughed when his wife had looked at him archly. “you need to give them time,” with that Chanyeol’s father had walked away, leaving behind Baekhyun to realize, he wasn't as blind as his sons thought he was.

 

Chanyeol had walked back to lean against him and for a moment, Baekhyun leaned back too. “I like the picture,” and the taller man had laughed. “so I'm no longer a pain in the ass giraffe with delusions of grandeur?” he had laughed and Baekhyun had joined in. He had called Chanyeol all that and more last evening when he wasn't allowed to see the picture, “you are, a little bit but I love everything about it and you,” he had held his breath. Baekhyun knew that Chanyeol wasn't the sort to say the words out loud at least now, but he needed to get them off his chest. Chanyeol’s eyes had softened and he had reached up to caress his cheeks for a moment. “I knew that,” before Baekhyun could joke about the arrogance of that statement alone, he had added, “just like you knew what I feel for you too,” Baekhyun had leaned against his shoulder for a moment, sighing.

 

“What is going on there with Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asked, causing Baekhyun to straighten. Soo-Mi had found her way to him, and saying something intensely, and they were starting to attract attention - mainly Yo-han who was walking towards his wife and his brother with a curious expression in his eyes. Baekhyun was about to break off and run towards them, when Joohyun had slid in from somewhere, her hand resting the crook of Kyungsoo’s arm. She said something with a bright smile on her face, that caused Soo-Mi’s eyes to flame - “Almost like a Disney villain,” Chanyeol had helpfully pointed out, before she visibly reigned herself in. Yo-han had joined them within minutes, having been delayed by an acquaintance. There had been just three people chatting, Soo-Mi with a strained smile on her face, Joohyun, with a playful one and Kyungsoo was poker faced as usual, even if his eyes looked harder than normal. Baekhyun didn’t think Yo-han had it in him to notice that his brother looked different, and he hadn’t, happily gossiping away, talking about the new Pcy Park piece he had gotten for his collection. Baekhyun had known for a fact Yo-han had no idea who Pcy Park was. But, he was famous, and tonight, he was the toast of the town, attracting attention from right and left. There were journalists from major publications here, and Yo-han, being himself, would certainly cash in on the limelight, for Kyungsoo’s brother hated being away from it. Then, something happened that caused his hand to tighten at Chanyeol’s waist. Kyungsoo took Joohyun’s arm off his own and laced them through his fingers, holding tightly. Anyone who didn’t know them would infer something very definite from the action, and Chanyeol and Baekhyun who did know them both, were still shocked enough to stare.

 

Baekhyun had made to walk towards them - to ask. To know, but Chanyeol had held him back, “Their story, remember Baekhyun-ah, let them find their way about. Interference rarely helps,” Baekhyun had stopped. He had heard something in Chanyeol’s voice that made him think that Chanyeol wasn’t talking about Joohyun and Kyungsoo any longer. He had hesitantly, reached for his boyfriend’s hand, and squeezed, “Chanyeol, your Hyung…” and the taller man had shook his head. “It’s a beautiful night Baekhyun-ah, and I am the toast of town, shouldn’t we celebrate?” This was Chanyeol’s way of shutting things down he didn’t want to talk about, at all. Maybe because he hardly ever did it with Baekhyun, Baekhyun had backed off. This was still too tender a wound for him to touch,and he could see it.

 

“After I see you off today, I am going to ask Kyungsoo what is going on between him and Joohyun-ssi,” he had declared, snuggling against Chanyeol’s side. He could feel Chanyeol sigh, as the stiffness leached out of him, “Can’t resist being nosy, can you, Baekhyunnie?” he had said, with a half smile. “Nope. I just want to know what they are doing,” he had replied with a pout. “She’s playing the knight in shining armor to his gentleman in distress I suppose,” Chanyeol had said with a sigh. “You’ll need to get the details on that, since I don’t know them myself,” Baekhyun had leaned back, resting against Chanyeol while Kyungsoo stood talking to everyone, holding Joohyun’s hand. He needed to ask. Kyungsoo was his best friend and Baekhyun was afraid that he hadn't been there for him as much as he should have been for the past month. He looked up to see Chanyeol smiling at him. He would. As soon as the man he loved  left. 

 

A/N: Happy 5th birthday Exo-ls! Of course I used Exo’s Lucky for inspiration here. Hopefully some of you even noticed! Let me know what you think of it, so far

  
  



	13. The Call

Part 13: The Call

“Why name it hope?” Baekhyun had asked, unable to help himself. They were hanging back as the party wound down. The photographs would be packed tomorrow to be shipped to their place in the world. As would Chanyeol’s Gidae. It would hang in his study, where only dust and Chanyeol was welcome. Baekhyun had peeked in a few times, and the mess had made him run in the opposite direction. How could a man who was so neat otherwise, turn his study slash developing room into such a natural disaster zone, Baekhyun didn't know but since Chanyeol had begged him not to clean - he really didn't care. The house had a number of rooms. Baekhyun had claimed one as his study. They had their bedroom and a guest room. More than enough space for the two of them. Baekhyun wondered how lonely he would be without Chanyeol there. Maybe they could have movie nights at their place instead. Bae Joohyun and Kyungsoo’s story would keep him occupied. He sighed, leaning into Chanyeol’s side.

“Maybe because I needed hope in my life when you came along Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol had been quiet for so long, Baekhyun had actually thought he had forgotten the question. “then you came, dancing on the street, singing BigBang songs and reminding me of all the joys I had forgotten that is a part and parcel of living,” He leaned into to peck the crown of his head, uncaring of who was looking. “I was more alive with you for those weeks than I had been for years” Chanyeol had smiled crookedly, “If that isn't hope, I don't know what it,” Baekhyun had blindly reached for his hand to to squeeze it. Knowing that he was beyond words now and that Chanyeol wasn't the sort who needed it anyway. He knew Baekhyun’s heart like no other.

“I am going to play cupid when you're gone,” he had murmured, munching on some hors d'oeuvres. “Baekhyunnie,” he heard the warning in Chanyeol’s voice, followed by a sigh. “don't do anything… extreme,” and he had sighed again. “if Joohyun needs help Baekhyun, please look after her for me,” he had agreed, unsure why Chanyeol would think she would need help but of course he would. Chanyeol had shook his head at his perplexed look and run a quick hand down his back.

Baekhyun was looking around, enjoying the last of the bustle - what did they call it? Last call? It was almost like a last call at a bar, people alive and reluctant to leave. They had to get going too. Chanyeol’s flight was in 4 hours - they had to go home, change, eat and then get Chanyeol to the airport during this time. Chanyeol too was ready to leave, and they were making their rounds and goodbyes before stepping out. “you would be safe there, right Chanyeol?” he had asked suddenly, his voice small. Chanyeol had seen his face and pulled him into his arms, tucking Baekhyun’s face against his neck, right there at the parking lot, uncaring of who was looking. “I'll be safer than I usually am Baekhyunnie. I don't want to lie and say that there's no danger at all but it is minimum. Nothing compared to what I usually used to be in. Is okay?” he had nodded, sighing, breathing in Chanyeol. Chanyeol too had held him against himself, crouching down to hug the much smaller man tightly. “I'll come back in a few months Baekhyunnie. Please don't worry. Just wait for me, okay?” Chanyeol had perhaps meant to say a lot more when he abruptly went silent, slowly extricating Baekhyun from his arms, before holding his hand tightly.

Baekhyun had been confused until he had seen Chanyeol looking over his head, eyes solemn, bordering on hard, lips tight, bloodless and his entire body had stiffened. Baekhyun had turned around to see Junmyeon leaning against Chanyeol’s SUV.

“yes Hyung?” Chanyeol had asked curtly enough to make Baekhyun wince. Junmyeon hadn't reacted. Instead, he had coolly asked if they could talk. Baekhyun could see that Chanyeol was torn - he could spend time with his lover or talk to his brother whom he missed everyday. Baekhyun had suddenly remembered something his mother used to say when she was alive, we are all on the same side, and he suddenly realized what she had meant.

Junmyeon looked defeated at his brother's silence, misinterpreting it as people are wont to - “Have you eaten?” Baekhyun had blurted out. Junmyeon had looked at him, confused. No, he hadn't yet. He had just got back from office. His brother stood there quietly. “Well you could come with us and have dinner while you talk, Junmyeon-nim,” Junmyeon had hesitated and Baekhyun had despaired at the pair of them when Chanyeol had finally spoken, his voice heavy with emotions, scratchy - “Come home and have dinner with us Hyung, please” and Baekhyun had seen the older man's face crumple for a second before he pulled himself together, and he had swallowed the lump in his throat. The separation hadn't been easy for either of the brothers. Junmyeon had followed them home. Baekhyun had left them alone, giving them privacy to talk while he had gone to the kitchen to cook. Maybe it wasn't how the night was supposed to have gone but he felt no regrets. Chanyeol wasn't leaving the country with a heavy heart as he had feared he would. He heard muffled laughter from the sitting room, as well as low murmurs. Whatever it was, the brothers had sorted it out and that was enough for him. He had gone to tell them to come to the kitchen and eat, and Junmyeon had stood up, and with a bright smile he had strode forward to suddenly hug Baekhyun who had been totally unprepared - “thank you,” the smaller man had whispered in his ear before going to the kitchen. Chanyeol had slowly come up behind him to hold Baekhyun’s hand before walking into the kitchen with him.

Junmyeon had spent the rest of dinner alternately praising Baekhyun’s cooking to high heavens, and joking about his brother - “He had a pet ferret once. Just your average cool kid,” he had twinkled and Baekhyun could see the similarities between the brothers’ personalities. Together, they were like rays of sunshine, even if Junmyeon was neither as loud or as talkative as Chanyeol.

“Hyung,” Chanyeol had said, with his mouth full. “I need you to look after Baekhyun when I'm not here,” before Baekhyun could smack him in sheer mortification, Junmyeon had nodded like it was the most reasonable request in the world “of course Chanyeol - ah,” “We love living outside the bustle of the city but it is too far away from his work to take buses. Please make sure he has a ride when I'm not there. When I'm back I'll take over Baekhyunnie duties again,”

Baekhyun had realized at that point, Park Chanyeol was a brat to his Hyung. “Hyung, what will you send me for Chuseok? Is it better than Yoora Noona’s? It has to be or else she will say that you like her more than me and we both know that isn't true at all” Junmyeon had just laughed and said it was a secret. Baekhyun had shaken his own head in denial. Of course he didn't need looking after but Junmyeon (“call me Hyung Baek,”) had nixed all his objections. Junmyeon had found another person to baby.

When it was time for Chanyeol to leave, Junmyeon had offered to drive them to the airport - that way they won't have to call Baekhyun a taxi. Baekhyun hadn't wanted to inconvenience his partner's brother but at the same time he could see just how happy Chanyeol had been to have his brother back so he had gone along with it. The brothers chattering like magpies, pulling Baekhyun into the conversation all the way to the airport. Then, it had been time for Chanyeol to leave.

Baekhyun had cried what seemed like gallons while Chanyeol had held him against his chest tightly, uncaring who stared at them at 4 am in the morning. Then, Baekhyun had stepped aside, fully aware that Junmyeon was restraining himself, even though it must be killing him to see his brother leave. Chanyeol had held his brother for a long time, neither speaking a word. Then Junmyeon had spoken first, “until you come back Chanyeol-ah, I'll look after Baek for you,” Chanyeol had nodded and swallowed before quietly whispering, almost like a child to his brother that he loved him, his voice cracking. Then he had looked at Baekhyun for the last time, kissed him, uncaring of the world around, and whispered his love for him before walking away, not looking back once. This was the first time he had let anyone see him off and it had hurt in ways he hadn't comprehended before. Baekhyun had started sobbing again, until he had felt Junmyeon arm around his shoulder and had turned to hug the shorter man and cried some more. The older man had let him before gently guided him back to the car. Junmyeon had taken him home, put him to bed and gone to sleep in the guestroom, unwilling to leave his charge alone that night. Baekhyun had even been fed a glass of warmed milk with sugar to help him sleep better. He had thanked Junmyeon hyung, who had happily gone off to sleep. Baekhyun had checked his phone. Chanyeol had sent him a text before he had boarded.

“It will be my first fall in Seoul after years Baekhyunnie. I can't wait to spend it with you.”

Baekhyun had closed his eyes, just as the first rays of sunlight had peeked through the blinds in their room. The twinge in his heart was still there, but soothed with hope. They would be okay. They had the first winter. Spring. Summer again. They had a lifetime. Chanyeol would be there holding his hands.

 

 

  
A/N: the song I had used as an inspiration was Regina Spektor’s the Call. It tells the hopeful story of a soldier going off to war, with the promise of safe returns. Baek and Chanyeol’s story had ended. But it isn't finished, you'll find it intertwined in the next installment of the series, which is mainly Kyungsoo and Joohyun although the others and new players will show up. Thank you for taking the time to read <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update as we go on, depending on how it goes.
> 
> Let me know what you think. Drop me a line :) Let's talk on Twitter: @thenobelleprize


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